Alive like Me
by Stellata
Summary: When her soul is flung from her body by a misspoken curse, she is forced to take up residence in a new body. Well, this life couldn't be any harder than her last... right? Wrong. Welcome to the life of Hermione Granger. Reworking of Hogwarts years.
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: Sadly not mine. A girl can dream, though...

Warning: This chapter is a prologue, a set-up for the rest of the story. It contains torture and death. *Possible trigger alert!*

I will post the last part of this chapter, which should be safe for everybody, at the beginning of the next part.

A/N: The second chapter is more lighthearted, but there will still be traces of angst throughout. If you read this chapter, you'll understand why.

* * *

_Part One: Prologue_

She hated not being able to fight back.

She curled up into a ball and wondered where the Aurors were, and when she would be rescued. She shivered and screamed when a harsh kick landed on her stomach.

The first day she kicked back. For her trouble, she received three long, curving scars on her back – and had her hands bound indefinitely, or at least until they wanted to break her fingers. She refused to stop kicking back, even when they branded her hand on the fourth day.

But by the sixth day she was too weak. She had not eaten, and had barely drunk anything. She was bruised and bloody and dizzy. She couldn't stop them from hurting her. She couldn't stop them from doing anything to her.

She hated not being able to fight back.

* * *

She hated not being able to see.

She couldn't anticipate the next blow with a blindfold on. She couldn't curl up in advance, couldn't arrange herself to soften the hits.

But she could smell. The scent of her own blood. The scent of the food that they carried past her cell to taunt her. The scent of the dank, mossy cell.

And she could hear. Their laughs echoing through her ears. Their taunts, their insults, their cackles. Every one of their voices was burned into her memory.

And she could feel. Oh, could she feel. She felt pain lance through every inch of her body. She felt the cool stone on her cheek when she lay down. She felt the soft moss against the wall.

She could even taste. After they burned her tongue, she forced her body to the wall. Tears poured down her face as she made her swollen jaw open wide. She poked out her tongue to touch the moss. It cooled her tongue slightly. It tasted strange, of dirt and water and maybe pine nuts. Combined with the salty taste of her tears, it was the best thing she'd had in a week.

She learned how to get around without her sight. She learned how to pick out noises from far away. She memorized which Death Eater went with each footstep. She wondered if in blindfolding her, they had given her an advantage in her other senses.

Then she remembered what things looked like. Outside these walls, outside wherever the hell she was, the world lay. She remembered the sun. She remembered trees, and flowers, and tall grass waving in the breeze. She remembered mountains, and lakes, and the river by her house.

When they took the blindfold off, she imagined, they might cut out her eyes. She knew they were capable of much worse. She wondered if she'd ever be able to see the orchard, the river, again. She wanted some reassurance that her sight was not completely gone. To see the walls of her prison, to see her captors...

She hated not being able to see.

On the eleventh day, they took off the blindfold.

They forced her to watch as they tortured the others. They made her stare at the blood and severed body parts. They forced her to see the look of horror on Marlene's face and the look of despair on Abby's face when they saw Julian's mangled corpse.

She hated being _able_ to see.

* * *

She hated Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy was ice. Lucius Malfoy was hate. Lucius Malfoy decided what to do with her. Lucius Malfoy made every moment of her remaining life a living hell. Lucius Malfoy was her keeper.

But when she ran out of tears, she stared at him unblinkingly. Somehow, her eyes had become her only remaining weapon. He always looked away first. Malfoy knew he had lost some power when she smiled at him, and had her beaten again harsher than ever before.

She would kill him one day.

She told him so with absolute certainty, and was rewarded with one second of complete, abject fear in his ice blue eyes.

She hated Lucius Malfoy.

* * *

She hated magic.

Ever since she was four and her mother confirmed that yes, she would be able to do magic one day, she had been happy. She loved the feeling of holding her wand for the first time, and making sparks dance around Ollivander's.

Now she knew that every wand was a weapon. Just a weapon. Anyone with a wand could use it on her at any time, any where. They didn't need a reason. The Death Eaters certainly didn't. They had grabbed her from Hogsmeade and she knew it was random, unplanned.

On the fifth day Lucius led a group of Death Eaters down to her cell. They took turns casting spells on her. Some were simple hexes that stung and left her looking uglier, but she didn't care. Then they started more advanced spells.

They brought her to the edge of death with the pain, then brought her back to life. She wished healing spells hadn't been invented - they only meant more torture.

She hated magic.

* * *

She hated people.

The people who had her, who hurt her. The Death Eaters.

The people who promised to protect everyone, including her - and didn't keep it. The Ministry.

The people who did nothing, who looked away while war waged. Every bloody wizard in the world.

They had all let Abby live long enough to cry as the Death Eaters amused themselves with her broken body.

They had all cut Marlene open and poked at her insides while she screamed.

They had all smashed Julian's head against the wall and swore one they realized they couldn't torture him anymore.

They had all left her. They had let this happen to her.

She hated people.

* * *

By the twentieth day she hated everything.

She wondered if she was dying. Perhaps they had kicked her hard enough to cause internal bleeding. Any second she could begin hemorrhaging and keel over in death.

Cool, sweet death.

She dreamed of it.

She wanted it.

Desperately.

* * *

"Zoe Llewelyn."

He whispered her name as he looked in.

"A personal visit?" She rasped. "What warrants this, oh mighty leader of torturers and murderers?"

Her own screams deafened her ears. When he put his wand down, she laughed at him. She had learned that the Dark Lord didn't like sarcasm.

Her laughter ushered in another round of Cruciatus. For the first time, she didn't cry or scream during the torture. She just laughed and laughed and laughed.

He cursed her one last time and walked away.

"You are not worth any more of my time."

She laughed at his retreating back.

Voldemort hadn't broken her.

Not yet.

It was enough.

* * *

"Our Lord says you are no more use to us." Lucius Malfoy smirked down at her.

She smiled at him. Her lips cracked with the effort, but she'd stopped caring about the taste of blood weeks ago.

"She survived twenty three days. Isn't that a record?" young Roderick Goyle whispered.

"Shut up," his friend Rupert Crabbe hissed.

"Actually, Goyle," Lucius looked at the slightly younger man coolly. "It is. In fact, she gets a prize for it."

Goyle straightened up and looked at his superior hopefully.

"Lord Malfoy? Could I..."

"Fine," Lucius said in a dismissive tone. "This is the curse. Prove yourself worthy of the Mark you bear, Goyle."

Zoe looked curiously at the slip of paper that passed from one hand to the other. Goyle glanced at it before grinning. He lifted his wand and began to speak the spell in his dull, monotonous voice.

She purposefully yawned, ignoring his words, and Lucius slapped her out of habit. Her cheekbone stung where his ring had struck it, but she just grinned impishly up at him.

"Bad boy, Lucius," she giggled. "Two by two, sparks of blue."

A blue spell shot from Goyle's wand towards her.

"What!" Lucius cried. "It was supposed to be red, dammit!"

"Uh..." Goyle looked confused. "Really?"

She laughed again, but they weren't paying her any attention.

"What did you do? It was supposed to fracture her soul," Lucius snapped. "I don't see - damn."

He looked down at her feet.

"I'm up here," she giggled. "What are you looking at?"

Then she too looked down. She saw her body.

"Curious," she said. "Am I dead at last?"

Nothing and nobody answered. Crabbe leant down to feel her pulse.

"She's dead," he reported.

Lucius glared at Goyle.

"You didn't do it properly, but you still killed her. Fine. Crabbe, tell our Lord he did it correctly. He doesn't need to be... any more upset than he already is."

She couldn't hear any more because she was rising higher. She passed through the ceiling, went into a room of Death Eaters chatting about different types of fire-whiskey, went up again into a hallway where the Lestrange brothers were having a burping contest, then finally went through the last roof of the house.

"I'm flying," she chirped to herself. "Wheee!"

Zoe rose a bit higher, then stopped as she was swept into a stream of golden dust. She wondered what it was. Then she wondered what she looked like, and realized she couldn't move her hands.

"Jeannie lost her hands at the lumber-mill," she sighed out loud.

"What?" A male voice asked curiously. "Is that how you died?"

"Where are you?" she demanded, looking all around. "Are you a Death Eater?"

"Huh?" he queried. She realized suddenly that he was simply a golden strand in the river. "What's a - " He began.

He was suddenly flung out of the channel and flew higher into the air, screaming as he went. He shook violently, and slowly the gold trickled from his thread and fell into the stream in little pieces. He was left completely silver, and slowly fell back into the channel.

She stared at him curiously.

"What the hell...?"

He didn't answer. She registered a slight gurgling sound coming from his strand. Her mind whirled, wondering what exactly had happened.

Then she felt it. Something was trying to force her out of the stream. She knew instantly that was had happened to the other person - strand - thingy - was about to happen to her.

She was scared.

But that wasn't anything new.

"Cut it out!" Zoe yelled at it - whatever it was.

She fought it with all her willpower, but it simply wasn't enough against the invisible pressure that worked against her. Frantically, she reached out and grabbed hold of another silver strand that floated by her. She managed to tie herself in a tight knot around it.

The silver strand let out a slight squeal of surprise, but said nothing.

She wasn't rising anymore, and sighed in relief. They passed along in peace for several minutes. Zoe looked below them at the tiny houses.

"Minnie didn't like her dollhouse," she said liltingly to the silver strand. "Tommy broke it for her. He was a nice boy, wasn't he?"

It didn't answer.

Suddenly they began sinking. As soon as they left the stream, they really began to plummet.

"Too low," Zoe whispered. She tried to untie herself from the silver strand, but couldn't. They went straight through a roof, an inside ceiling, and stopped in midair.

She could hear a woman in the room screaming.

"Why won't it bloody come out already!"

"Just breathe, honey. You can do it!"

"It's at the shoulders now. One last push -"

"Ahhhhh!"

Zoe saw the baby as it came out. It was purplish and wet and bloody.

"Gross," she giggled to herself. "Like a prune..."

Then she was being sucked downwards again, harshly. She saw the closed eyes of the baby before she hit its face and passed into it.

She was in a small space, and the silver strand detached from her. There was a small sea of red sparkles around her, and it was amazing. She knew suddenly, instinctively, that she wanted - no, she needed to touch that red. But the silver wanted it too.

Zoe fought for it. She really did. She tried her best. She ended up grabbing two tiny red sparkles and wrapping herself around it.

The silver strand got every other one. It had thousands of red sparkles.

"Come on," she pleaded with it. "Share with me!"

It seemed to consider it.

"She's so beautiful," the woman whispered.

"Welcome to the world, Hermione." The man was crying, very softly.

The silver strand unraveled, letting a few red sparkles through. Zoe leapt to catch them, and was suddenly caught as the other strand wrapped around her. She tried to move, and realized she was stuck. Well, it wasn't so bad. From her new position, she touched most of the red sparkles, and the silver strand was warm and comforting.

"Thanks," Zoe told the other strand.

Her world all flashed white for one moment. Then she realized she could see properly.

"She has brown eyes." The woman whispered.

"This is your mother," the man told her as he stroked her cheek. "I bet you'll be beautiful, just like her."

Hermione giggled.

"She's so happy," her mother said rapturously.

"You did so good, Helen." He kissed Helen gently on the cheek.

Hermione kicked her leg.

"We did so good," Helen corrected him. "Look at her, so feisty."

Zoe tried to kick a leg again. It didn't work.

"Come on!" she cried. They didn't hear her.

Hermione blinked her eyes a few times. Zoe tried to stop, but it didn't work. The truth slowly sank in.

She had a second life. Wonderful, maybe, but she had no control over this body. The silver entity, who spoke none and knew nothing, was in charge.

"Damn it," she said angrily.

Hermione just giggled at her. The new parents cooed.

Zoe sighed. She had a feeling this was going to be a long day.

Scratch that. A dreadfully long lifetime.

Oh joy.


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer: Sadly not mine. A girl can dream, though...

A/N: For anyone who didn't want to read the prologue (it does contain descriptions of torture and death), here's the last part of it, which should be fairly safe. A summary of what happened first: Zoe Llewelyn is a girl from the Marauder's generation who was captured and tortured by Death Eaters (for as of yet unknown reasons) before her soul was cast out of her body.

* * *

_Last time on… Alive Like Me._

"Too low," Zoe whispered. She tried to untie herself from the silver strand, but couldn't. They went straight through a roof, an inside ceiling, and stopped in midair.

She could hear a woman in the room screaming.

"Why won't it bloody come out already!"

"Just breathe, honey. You can do it!"

"It's at the shoulders now. One last push -"

"Ahhhhh!"

Zoe saw the baby as it came out. It was purplish and wet and bloody.

"Gross," she giggled to herself. "Like a prune..."

Then she was being sucked downwards again, harshly. She saw the closed eyes of the baby before she hit its face and passed into it.

She was in a small space, and the silver strand detached from her. There was a small sea of red sparkles around her, and it was amazing. She knew suddenly, instinctively, that she wanted - no, she needed to touch that red. But the silver wanted it too.

Zoe fought for it. She really did. She tried her best. She ended up grabbing two tiny red sparkles and wrapping herself around it.

The silver strand got every other one. It had thousands of red sparkles.

"Come on," Zoe pleaded with it. "Share with me!"

It seemed to consider it.

"She's so beautiful," the woman whispered.

"Welcome to the world, Hermione." The man was crying, very softly.

The silver strand unraveled, letting a few red sparkles through. Zoe leapt to catch them, and was suddenly caught as the other strand wrapped around her. She tried to move, and realized she was stuck. Well, it wasn't so bad. From her new position, she touched most of the red sparkles, and the silver strand was warm and comforting.

"Thanks," Zoe told the other strand.

Her world flashed white for one moment. Then she realized she could see properly.

"She has brown eyes." The woman whispered.

"This is your mother," the man told her as he stroked her cheek. "I bet you'll be beautiful, just like her."

Hermione giggled.

"She's so happy," her mother said rapturously.

"You did so good, Helen." He kissed Helen gently on the cheek.

Hermione kicked her leg.

"We did so good," Helen corrected him. "Look at her, so feisty."

Zoe tried to kick a leg again. It didn't work.

"Come on!" she cried. They didn't hear her.

Hermione blinked her eyes a few times. Zoe tried to stop, but it didn't work. The truth slowly sank in.

She had a second life. Wonderful, maybe, but she had no control over this body. The silver entity, who spoke none and knew nothing, was in charge.

"Damn it," she said angrily.

Hermione just giggled at her. The new parents cooed.

Zoe sighed. She had a feeling this was going to be a long day.

Scratch that. A dreadfully long lifetime.

Oh joy.

* * *

_Chapter One_

A girl wove through the crowd. Dark brown hair hung in waves about her head, hiding her face from any observer. She wore a black coat, a black scarf, and had a single black bag slung over a shoulder. She made herself inconspicuous.

One leap and she was on the train. She found an empty compartment at the end of the train, and sat in a seat.

Her hair fell into her eyes as she leaned her chin down. She hummed a melancholy tune as she slid her wand out of her pocket and twirled it between her fingers.

She gazed out the window.

_It shouldn't take long._

'How long?'

_A little more than seven hours._

She nodded to herself and closed her eyes. She slipped her wand into a sleeve, but kept it firmly in her grasp.

The door slid open and she registered light footsteps.

It was a boy. His breathing was uneven. He was no threat.

He sat down across from her.

There was a sound. Rib-bit!

"Hush, Trevor," he said softly, chidingly. "She's sleeping."

She mused to herself for awhile as she half listened to the boy breathing.

Zoe's memories of Hogwarts began washing through her mind. Within moments, she recalled the entire layout of the castle and its grounds. Another minute, and she recalled all the lessons she learned during her first year. Well, that was going to come in handy...

The boy was murmuring something to his toad.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. It took a minute for him to realize he was being watched. He jumped and looked at her with startled eyes.

Hermione forgot to breathe as their eyes met.

_He looks... __no__._

"Hello," the boy said timidly. His eyes were a hazel green, his hair a dark brown, and his smile gentle. He had a dimple, and a few tiny freckles near his nose that would fade with time. His nose was small, and his high cheekbones were disguised by round cheeks.

"Hi," Hermione answered.

"Did you have a good nap?" Neville scratched behind his left ear as he tried to make conversation.

_Mannerisms too. Please no._

"It was too short."

"Ah," he nodded.

The door opened, and Hermione twitched. Neville noticed.

"Anything off the cart, dears?"

"A cauldron cake and three chocolate frogs, please," the boy said promptly.

The plump woman handed him the food in exchange for a few knuts.

_You know the order, get to it!_

"Twenty pumpkin pasties, ten cauldron cakes, fifty chocolate frogs, fifteen bunches of licorice, thirty boxes of Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans, ten packs of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, and two glasses of pumpkin juice, please." Hermione smiled up at her.

After a moment of shock, the tea trolley lady gave Hermione her sweets, accepted the two galleons it cost, and headed off down the corridor again. The door slid shut behind her.

Neville stared at Hermione.

_Don't meet his eyes. Don't..._

She tapped her wand to her watch, and most of the food disappeared.

"Sugar's good," she remarked blandly to the boy, not meeting his eyes. She took out a pumpkin pasty and bit into it. They chewed in silence for a while.

"Juice?" She offered it to him. "The cakes aren't moist enough."

"Thanks," he grinned. "You're right."

She smiled gently. He was absorbed in eating, and missed the flash of sadness that crossed her face as she studied him.

_Just like Frank..._

"I'm Neville." He waited for a response.

_First choice for a boy. Eleanor if it was a girl._

"I'm Hermione." She finally whispered. He nodded.

"That's a pretty name."

_Not as pretty as yours._

She nodded and smiled slightly in thanks.

"Are you excited?" Neville asked after a while. "The castle's supposed to be beautiful."

"It is," she responded reflexively.

_Mistake! Mistake!_

"I've seen pictures," she added quickly. Neville nodded.

"Is your family magic?" He queried.

_And now I'm thinking about them again._

"No," she responded shortly. "Just me. And you?"

"My parents were both wizards," Neville scratched that spot again.

_Were..._

"Were?" She asked, a look of shock crossing her face.

"They're – uh, gone. Since I was a baby."

Zoe couldn't think properly.

"I'm sorry," Hermione gasped. "I – uh – lavatory." She fled the compartment and pushed past a redheaded boy.

"Oi!" he called at her, but she ran into the lavatory and closed the door. A frantic wave of her wand insured that nobody outside the lavatory could hear her.

She broke down into sobs.

_Twelve years – never knowing anything. All this time... Oh, Frank! Alice!_

It was some time before she ran out of tears. It had been building since she walked into Diagon Alley last month. Seeing everything again... And now, meeting the children of Zoe's closest friends – it was so strange, so painful.

_He looked exactly like Frank_, Zoe thought desperately. _Why do I..._

_'_Hush,' Hermione told her suddenly. 'Zoe, we can take care of him. Keep him safe for them.'

Zoe thought.

_Yes. It's the only thing to do._

'Good. Now stop making me cry,' Hermione ordered the other soul within her.

_Yes Ma'am._

Hermione took a moment to make herself presentable again. A few charms and she was the same as before.

She walked back to the compartment, and found Neville frantically searching the small room, turning out his bag and muttering to himself. He looked up and saw her.

"I can't find Trevor," he said desperately.

_The toad, right?_

She scanned the room briefly.

"Maybe he got out when I left. Do you know summoning charms?"

"No," Neville admitted, his eyes nervous.

"Relax and take out your wand," she instructed. Cautiously he did so.

She flinched, and he frowned.

_Every little thing._

"You okay?"

"Fine."

_Ash wood, dragon heartstring, eleven and a half inches, flexible._

"So... what do I say."

"Ah-key-oh," she said slowly. "Spelled a-c-c-i-o. Say it as you give your wand a little flick, like you're trying to knock a fly off of it. What really matters is intent. You need to _want_ your toad back. Close your eyes and concentrate on the image of Trevor – imagine him flying to you."

Neville pinched his eyes closed.

"Take your time."

Finally, he said it, slowly and firmly.

"Accio."

Hermione stepped to open the door. Seconds later, Trevor came flying into the room. Neville caught him in one hand.

"Good job," she praised him. "I'd think about investing in a cage, or a tracking charm."

"Thanks," he shot her a blinding smile.

Zoe tried not to cry again. Hermione worked hard not to let her. Despite the fact that she was the one usually controlling her body, Zoe's emotions always effected her.

Hermione gave Neville a small smile and looked away. They watched the countryside go by in companionable silence for the next hour or so. Neville's eyes began to close, and Hermione began to sing softly.

He smiled in his sleep. She didn't stop singing.

* * *

Neville woke up an hour later.

"We're almost there," the brunette told him softly. "Did you have a good nap?"

"Best in a while. Was it you... who was singing?"

"Yes."

"I think – I think I've heard it before," he frowned slightly. "It sounds really familiar."

"It's a lullaby," she said softly. "An old friend taught it to me. Maybe... your parents sang it to you when you were little."

_If you only knew, Neville._

Neville looked sad and thoughtful.

"Maybe."

The train came to a stop. They peered into the hallway and waited for it to clear before getting off of the train.

"So do we take the carriages?" Neville asked, looking at where most of the students were going.

_Can't take the boats. The time I did it, with Frank, Abby, and Marlene was too perfect. I can't redo it. I'd just cry again..._

"Do you want to see Hogsmeade?" Hermione asked, ignoring his question.

"The village? We aren't supposed to, are we?" Neville wondered.

She just shrugged.

"Don't you want to see it? There's a joke shop and everything."

"Wow," he breathed. He glanced at the carriages.

"We can catch one later," she said, putting a hand on his arm and smiling disarmingly.

"I guess," he said slowly, excitement blooming on his face.

"Let's go then." Hermione slipped her hand into his and led him down the path to Hogsmeade. The way from the train station led them directly to the main street, which was filled with shops.

When they came to Zonko's, Neville rushed in and stared at the large selection of joke materials.

"Have you ever pranked people before?" Hermione asked him.

"No." Neville's eyes were wide. He reached out and hesitantly touched the jar of dungbombs.

"Well, let's get some of those then," Hermione said, grabbing a few of the (mostly) harmless bombs. "Come on, I bet it'll be great fun pranking people with these."

"We?" He sounded absolutely stunned.

"Yeah, we can be a team."

A memory of those same words, uttered from Frank's lips, surfaced suddenly, and Hermione blinked furiously.

She purposefully didn't look at Neville. She didn't want to cry...

Instead, it was his eyes that teared up at the announcement. He wiped them furtively, blinked a few times, and Hermione never noticed.

"That sounds good," he told her. Hermione made several purchases, and then they left the shop and continued down the street.

"Honeydukes!" Neville whispered as they stopped in front of a shop. "I've heard they have great fudge."

"I'm going to get some," Hermione declared, and took him with her into the shop. She purchased several pounds of dark fudge, some strawberry fudge, and mint fudge. It was all wrapped up, and when they left, she tapped her watch and it all disappeared.

"How'd you do that?" Neville asked curiously.

"It's a charmed watch," she told him. "I got it in Diagon Alley. You can keep lots of stuff in it."

"Neat." He was impressed.

They left and scurried back towards the train station. Everyone was gone, including the train. There were no carriages left.

"What do we do now?" Neville asked.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "Just walk, I guess."

They took up a fast pace as they headed to the castle.

"We're going to be in trouble," Neville stated, matter-of-fact, though his eyes were wide.

"Just say Trevor hopped off to the village, so we went after him, and had trouble catching him," Hermione said after a moment. "They'll believe us."

Neville glanced at her. He didn't know whether to be shocked or impressed by how easily she thought of the lie. They continued on down the path, and Neville began to hum.

"Aaahhh!" Hermione shrieked suddenly, stock still as she pointed a wand straight ahead.

Neville looked up fearfully and saw it.

_What – the - hell! _Zoe screeched inwardly.

It was a huge black horse-like creature, with a skeletal body, enormous white, shining eyes, a pointy head and dragon-like wings.

Neville stopped.

"I don't know what it is," Hermione said in panic.

"It's okay," Neville said suddenly. "I know... I know what it is."

He stepped forward slowly.

"What?" Hermione squeaked.

"It's a thestral," he said softly. It eyed him as he approached, but Neville continued to move.

"They're very magical, and very lucky," he went on. Hermione watched as the boy extended a hand towards the creature.

They waited a minute before it cautiously leaned forward to nudge Neville's hand with its nose.

"Hey, beautiful," Neville said to it. It didn't back away, so he brought up his other hand to stroke the side of its head.

It made a soft keening sound, and Hermione found her fear dissipating. She walked forward and waited for it to nuzzle her hand, although it took another minute.

"Such a good girl," Neville crooned, and it moved its head to look him in the eye.

Suddenly it moved, shaking off their hands and stepping between them. It lowered its head and wings, and bent its legs.

"It's offering us a ride," Neville said in awe.

_I don't know if that's a good idea..._

"Really?" Hermione was skeptical. Neville carefully climbed onto the back of the thestral and wove his hands into its mane.

"Really," he agreed.

_Don't do it... Hermione! Don't you dare! Flying should be done on brooms, not on potentially dangerous creatures._

'Oh hush.'

Hermione shook her head, but got on behind Neville, wrapping her arms around his waist.

_Oh Merlin! Why don't you ever listen?_

"Up now, girl," Neville told the creature softly. It lifted its head and began to trot, its wings flapping. They were heading towards the castle, and then...

It flapped its wings again, and they were off the ground. Hermione gasped and Neville laughed.

They rose higher, and soon they could see the castle ahead of them.

_I suppose this isn't __so__ bad after all..._

"Where do we want to land?" Neville asked his friend.

"I don't know," she admitted.

The thestral decided for them as it lifted above the castle. Right beyond the large entrance doors, there was a flat section of the roof that shimmered.

They flew down and right through into... A very large room.

_Would you look at that? We got here just in time for the Sorting_.

"The Great Hall," Hermione whispered to Neville. "Smile."

Indeed, hundreds of students and dozens of teachers were staring up at them as they flapped gently into the Hall. They landed before the table of teachers.

Hermione hopped off and grabbed Neville's hand to help him down. They both hugged the thestral gently around the neck.

"We'll come visit you later," Neville promised it quietly. Its eyes seemed to twinkle at them as it lifted off and exited through the ceiling.

When it was gone Hermione and Neville looked around them. They were still being stared at. A woman was standing in front of them, her mouth wide open, and a large pointed hat in her hands.

_Aggh! McGonagall! Make an excuse! Now!_

"We got lost looking for Neville's pet," Hermione explained sweetly.

Professor McGonagall nodded dumbly, then realized her mouth was open. She shut it quickly.

"Stand in line with the other first years," she said sharply. "It's time for the Sorting Ceremony."

Hermione stepped into line next to Neville.

She glanced over at the boy on her left. He had black hair and glasses, and looked at her with astonished eyes. Bright green eyes... And messy, messy black hair. He had to be -

_Not now. Not now. Ignore him. Ignore him._

"Her name's Abby," Hermione told him. "Wasn't she pretty?"

"I – I guess." He blinked a few times, then turned to watch the professor.

Hermione yawned as names were called. Students stepped up to a stool, sat down, put on a hat, and waited for it to yell one of the four Houses, the communities within Hogwarts. Finally, her name was called.

"Granger, Hermione!"

She sauntered forward, twirled the hat in one hand, and tipped it onto her head as she sat down with crossed legs.

_So where are you going to put me? Zoe_ asked it eagerly.

_'_Ooh yes, do tell,' Hermione chimed in.

**Oh Merlin, **the Hat groaned. **It can't be – two of you?**

_Yep._

**Zoe Llewelyn? How did you – never mind, I don't want to know. You always were a troublemaker. Ravenclaw, I remember. Now, though... Slytherin, most definitely.**

_**'**_Ew!' Hermione thought. 'I don't want to be in Slytherin! I want Gryffindor.'

_Absolutely not! _Zoe said disgustedly. _We want Ravenclaw._

'You can't speak for me,' Hermione said defiantly. 'I've had control for twelve years. I get to decide.'

**Shut up, the both of you! I'm the Sorting Hat, and I get to decide!**

_Fine, _Zoe whined. _So choose already!_

**One of you is fit for Slytherin, the other for Ravenclaw. One of you wants Gryffindor, the other wants Ravenclaw. So you know what? Screw you both! You're going to**

**"HUFFLEPUFF!"**

**Whether you like it or not!**

_How dare it! It didn't listen to a word either of us said... Uppity, frumpy old __cap__!_

Hermione refrained from blowing the Hat to pieces as she walked to the Hufflepuff table, where everyone was cheering enthusiastically.

"That was a sweet entrance," a girl told her as she sat down.

"Yeah, I haven't seen one that good in, well, ever," a much older boy said.

"What flying spell did you use?" A red haired girl asked.

"They rode in on a flying horse," an older girl sniffed. "Didn't you see it?"

"What horse?" A blond boy asked.

"It was a thestral," Hermione told them, and turned to watch the Sorting. They continued to argue as she ignored them.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

She watched Neville walk to the stool. The Hat was on his head for two seconds before it screamed -

**"HUFFLEPUFF!"**

Hermione cheered as her new friend came to sit beside her.

"Looks like we've got the newest group of pranksters in our House for once," a boy with a prefect badge grinned. "Finally! It's almost always the Gryffindors. I bet you guys could come up with something to knock the Weasleys off their feet."

Neville and Hermione looked at each other and exchanged secret little smiles.

_Oh, it's on, _Zoe thought happily. _Merlin knows I could use the distraction._


	3. Part 3

Disclaimer: Sadly not mine. A girl can dream, though...

Chapter Three

_Cool, sweet death. _

_She dreamed of it..._

It was expected that a newborn would cry. Helen and Robert were delighted that Hermione was a cheerful baby, as long as she was awake. She never cried when she was hungry. She didn't cry when she needed to be changed.

But every time she went to sleep, she would wake up crying. Helen and Robert took their daughter back to the hospital every month. Nothing seemed to help. The doctors were at a loss; their best suggestion was that she was having nightmares.

"What would she have to be scared about?" Helen asked when Hermione was three months old.

"It couldn't be nightmares," Robert agreed.

Only Zoe knew better. She was trying, she really was. In the beginning she hadn't realized that her memories were leaking into Hermione's consciousness. When she realized it, Zoe began to try to shield her mind, or soul – whatever she was – from the pure, unblemished soul that bunked with her in Hermione Granger's body.

But Hermione would always see those memories – Zoe's worst memories, and those twenty three days of hell – when she slept. Every night of her life, she woke up screaming or worse. Helen and Robert were forced to accept it, and comforted her as best they could. The doctors declared that she suffered from night terrors, but there was no medication they knew of to deal with it.

By the time Hermione was four she was smart enough to tell her parents she didn't remember her nightmares. After all, there were no horrors to mention in her cheery suburban life. There was a difference between having an overactive imagination and being crazy.

By the time she was seven, Hermione learned to scream without a sound. Her parents, no longer disturbed in the middle of the night, rejoiced – they thought she had gotten better – that the night terrors had gone away.

She never bothered to correct them.

* * *

_  
_

By the time Hermione was six, and going to school, Zoe had learned to control her emotions. She buried her memories, her pain, her depression – and fought herself to provide a guardianship of sorts for Hermione.

Zoe provided helpful memories that aided Hermione. With nineteen years of knowledge, Hermione could read and write in no time. Math, advanced chemistry, literature – nothing was impossible. Helen and Robert were delighted that their daughter was such a prodigy.

Even when Zoe ran out of memory help – she had left the British education system at the age of eleven – Hermione drove onwards. She had a thirst for knowledge even Zoe couldn't match. By the time she was eleven and a half, Hermione had passed six A-levels with flying colors.

But it all came at a cost. Hermione had no friends.

Besides Zoe, and her parents, she didn't trust anybody.

_They had all left her. They had let this happen to her... She hated people._

_She hated not being able to fight back._

_**No longer.**_

After two weeks in the first grade, Hermione was bumped up to fifth grade. Four of the ten year old boys decided that the little six year old could use a lesson in humility, and came after her during recess.

The luckiest had his nose broken for his trouble. The second had two black eyes and a broken wrist. The third had his arm broken in two places, and the leader had broken ribs and two broken legs.

Nobody knew exactly how it had happened, and the boys weren't telling. The boys were sent to the hospital and suspended, but even the most admiring of teachers became wary of Hermione.

Those who forgot the first incident would soon learn for themselves. Hermione Granger could sense somebody sneaking up behind her. Even if they managed to get close enough to try anything, she could down them in an instant.

Helen and Robert professed she had never had any martial arts training, but they weren't correct. Soon enough Hermione was enrolled in a karate class, with instructions to go easy on the other children.

To the other children at school and at karate and music class (those who got past their fear of her) Hermione Granger was clearly crazy. She would murmur things to herself, and break out into laughter at the strangest of times. Sometimes she would glare at others for no apparent reason.

Yes, there was something strange about that girl, they all mused, shivered, and moved on.

Hermione and Zoe went about their own life. As Hermione grew up, Zoe found herself liking the girl more and more. She was strong and self-confident, intelligent and brave. She was loyal to her parents, and kind to animals. Hermione had a mind of her own, but still took Zoe's advice.

They became best friends. What choice did they have? They were, quite literally, soul mates.

* * *

_She hated magic._

Hermione and magic had a love – hate relationship. She was just as in love with it as Zoe was at her age, and delighted in perfecting her wandless magic through the years before Hogwarts.

But she still knew what it could do.

_She knew that every wand was a weapon. Just a weapon. Anyone with a wand could use it on her at any time, any where. They didn't need a reason. _

Hermione grew up in the suburbs of Manchester. There were no wizards or witches, even muggleborns, for miles around. Nobody but the Hogwarts and Ministry's quills knew she was a witch.

For years, she was safe. She could easily protect herself from muggles.

Then in June of 1991, a witch came to her door. She had a wand in her hand as she entered the house, ushered in by a confused but polite Robert Granger.

Hermione came very close to throwing the witch against the wall - but then, for the first time during a fight, Zoe acted differently. For once, she was the voice of reason, of calm – and recognition.

Septima Vector was a prefect when Zoe started at Hogwarts. In fact, she had tutored the younger Ravenclaw in Herbology. Septima still had the same bearing, the same features, and the same voice – although she was now eleven years older than Zoe remembered.

Hermione affected an innocent smile when she shook Septima's hand. She concealed her surprise upon learning her old tutor would be one of her Professors at Hogwarts – although not until third year, assuming she took Arithmancy.

She didn't have to conceal her excitement over attending Hogwarts. Five days and many discussions with Vector and her parents later, Hermione was cleared to go to Hogwarts. Septima just smiled at her and took her to London, to see Diagon Alley 'for the first time.'

* * *

The Leaky Cauldron was filled with all sorts of wizards, some decent enough, but most quite unsavory. There was old Tom, always good for some advice, Zoe remembered fondly. During the war he had stayed open for business and appeared neutral, thus avoiding attacks. Of course Tom's friends knew better – he was a good old man, staunchly against Voldemort, and willing to give those who fought the Dark Lord all the support he could afford to give.

They didn't linger in the bar. Septima – no, Professor Vector, Hermione reminded Zoe – tapped the bricks, and they were through.

It was crowded – _she hated people – _and she immediately tensed. She wanted her wand _now_ – then remembered the Death Eaters – _the people who had her, who hurt her_...

_They had taken her from Hogsmeade_ – they could take her from here. She knew Voldemort was defeated. A month or two after her second birthday, Hermione/Zoe remembered a man in orange robes – distinctly a wizard – taking her mother's hands and dancing with her in the street. Helen politely freed herself, astonished at the man's words.

"'Tis a day to be rejoicing! You muggles should rejoice as well! Be happy, for the Dark Lord is defeated, and we shall live in peace together!"

Zoe had felt ridiculous happiness for all of five minutes. Then she felt melancholy, and suddenly wanted to see her friends and family again. She knew it was not possible then...

But it was possible now. She imagined running into her brother, or her sister , or any of her friends... Abby and Marlene were gone now, but Frank, Rose, and Amanda... She just hoped they were happy. She hoped to meet them – maybe even meet their children.

Hermione held the Professor's hand as they walked down Diagon Alley together.

She took in everything and everyone around her. It was instinct by now – trained eidetic memory, insisted upon by Zoe from their early years together, because it would keep them alive.

Zoe remembered the shops, and smiled and frowned in turn as memories were triggered.

Lunch at Carrie's Cafe with Gabriel Taylor in the summer before fourth year... The quill shop where she'd first kissed Samantha Green over the holidays in fifth year... The smallest table at Florean's Ice Cream Parlor, where she and – but Zoe didn't want to dwell on that.

She stared at the table longingly, and wished that wherever he was he was happy. He was probably married by now. Happily married with children.

_She hated being able to see._

* * *

"It's the wand that chooses the witch," Ollivander explained kindly.

Hermione just nodded and began to try for wands.

The ones she tried were made of all sorts of different wood – pine, holly, oak - with all three cores that Ollivander used – phoenix feather, dragon heartstring, and unicorn hair – of all different lengths and rigidity.

Some sparked, some made coughing noises, and some caused explosions.

Ollivander's famed calm was disappearing, and the line behind her was getting longer and longer.

"It'll find you," he assured her, but Hermione saw the concern in his eyes.

He even went to the back room to take out a few small boxes. But these few 'special' wands – what else could they be, the way the wandmaker handled them so reverently? - didn't work either.

The line started to dwindle as people gave up, muttering that they would come back another day.

Hermione felt anxious, and so did Zoe.

'What do you think is wrong?'

_Well, there are two of us,_ Zoe pointed out. _Wands may only be attuned to a single soul._

Hermione knew better than even thinking about asking that question of Ollivander. Don't raise suspicion, don't have people think you're too crazy or making up stories for attention, and certainly not in the wizarding world!

"Hmmm," Ollivander said thoughtfully. He left again, and brought forth another chest. "These sets of wands were not made by me, but by my brother. He experimented with different cores, while I stuck with the more reliable ones. Perhaps a different core will prefer you..."

Another three wands produced weak results.

"Dragon Tree Wood, eleven and a half inches," Ollivander mused.

Hermione took it in her hand. She felt a shiver race through her body, and knew she was getting goosebumps. It felt right, and Zoe agreed.

She waved it once, and a beautiful snowflakes cascaded through the air towards them.

"Amazing," Ollivander breathed. "Such precision. Were you imagining the snowflakes?"

"Yes," Hermione told him. "I never thought..."

"It is yours," the old man beamed at her. "I haven't sold one of my brother's wands in years... Mostly for sentimental reasons. But this – this is remarkable."

"What was the core?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"Two nundu hairs, twisted together," Ollivander mused as he closed the chest. "From two separate beasts, as a matter of fact. It was an experiment my brother had little success with. Two separate cores would never work, I told him... I believe I stand corrected, and must now eat my hat."

Hermione giggled. A real, true giggle – not an act.

"Did you promise him?"

"Unfortunately." His eyes twinkled as he smiled down at her.

Hermione and Zoe were still grinning as she paid him and walked out of the store.

* * *

She had survived the rest of Diagon Alley. Then she had survived the Hogwarts Express, and learning that Frank and Alice were dead. She thought she was doing pretty well, all things considered. Zoe's emotions were rawer than they'd been in years. When she was this tense and nervous, Hermione tended to feel that way as well.

Hermione sat in her new bed and waited for the other girls to fall asleep. She was in a large comfortable room that she shared with five other girls, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, Megan Jones, Sally-Anne Perks, and Lea Spinks, her fellow first-year Hufflepuffs.

All of the eleven year olds were tired from the train ride and the feast, and only took a few minutes to nod off.

Looking at the innocent little girls sleeping nearby, Hermione and Zoe both knew they were no threat. Still, they were both paranoid.

It only took Hermione a few minutes to cast the strongest wards Zoe knew over her own area. Feeling much more certain about her safety, Hermione tucked herself under the covers and nodded off quickly.

Her dreams contained new and old fears mixed together. She could see Marlene and Abby again, tortured and dying – but now they were joined by Frank and Alice – and Neville. They screamed for her help, but Lucius Malfoy had her tied up, and she couldn't do anything. When they were all dead, the dream ended.

Hermione sat up in bed shrieking silently. It took her half an hour and three pieces of chocolate to go back to sleep.

_Hermione hated dreams. They were cruel, harsh things – meant to break her. She had not broken in all of her almost twelve years with them. _

_Just because this night was worse, harsher than in years, she would not - could not – break now. _

_...Could she?_


	4. Part 4

Disclaimer: Does this look like it belongs to me? If it did, rest assured I would have it in book format, not here. Luckily I love fan fiction, so owning these characters doesn't matter to me, I just love to play with them. ^_^

* * *

Neville thought he might faint. That is, if he didn't drown in his own sweat first. It was his very first Potions class and he already felt he was in serious trouble. He knew he really should have read ahead. Susan was whispering to Hannah about the different properties of the ingredients and why they reacted to each other as they did in the anti-boils potion. He knew nothing of the sort, and any attempt to remember what Susan said failed in his nervous panic.

He glanced over at Hermione, who met his eyes and smiled. Neville noticed briefly that she looked exhausted, then remembered about his simmering cauldron, and went back to work.

"Add the bicorn now," She murmured, and Neville muttered his thanks.

He kept his voice very low, not wanting to think about what would happen if Snape caught them talking. He had already taken ten points from Ravenclaw when Anthony Goldstein tried to walk Kevin Entwhistle through the potion.

"Potions is a solitary art," Snape had told them. "If you move your attention to another's cauldron, your may forget a critical step. One tiny miscalculation can have fatal results."

His voice was low and quite frankly, terrified Neville. He reminded the young boy of his grandmother. Stern, tall, and overbearing, August Longbottom had rarely expressed her feelings for Neville. She loved him deeply, but Neville did not know it, for she had never told him so.

Living his entire life in the care of his elderly relatives, sans contact with any other children, Neville had never learned how to socialize. It was very fortunate for the boy that Hermione had taken him under her wing, for without her guidance, he would have been alone already.

He had sat with Hermione at meals and in classes for the last two days. With her help, he overcame his shyness and began talking to some of the other Hufflepuff first years. Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott had apparently been best friends for years, and it showed, but they were friendly enough to him. Megan Jones and Ernie MacMillan had similarly known each other for a long time. They had quickly gravitated towards their year mate Wayne Hopkins and formed a trio. Justin Finch-Fletchley seemed rather solitary and happy with it. Lea Spinks and Sally-Anne Perks were quite friendly but also flirty, to an extent that made Neville uncomfortable. They had decided already that teasing and flirting with poor Stephen Cornfoot (who was indeed rather cute) was their favorite hobby.

Neville glanced over at Stephen, who was bright red. This was not an unusual occurrence, as he blushed easily, and Lea and Sally-Anne tried to get this reaction several times a day by embarrassing him.

"Is there a problem?" Snape said coolly as he brushed by Stephen's table.

"Not at all, sir," Stephen said quickly "It's just a little hot in here."

Snape looked at him penetratingly, then turned, adding quietly as he went, "Are you paying attention to your steps, Mr. Cornfoot?"

Stephen straightened and hastened to throw in the next ingredient. He breathed a sigh of relief as the potion darkened to blue as it should.

Neville's eyes widened suddenly and glanced at his own cauldron, then his list.

'_Step Fourteen – Add the powdered scarab beetles immediately afterwards, stirring twelve times counterclockwise.'_

The potion bubbled dangerously as Neville fumbled for the fine pink powder. He had just grabbed the powder when his cauldron exploded.

Neville's eyes clenched shut and he waited to be drenched with boiling liquid. Strangely enough, he couldn't feel the pain.

Slowly, he opened one eye. What he saw surprised him. The potion had frozen in midair. It hung in beautiful little white-blue droplets all about him.

One of the droplets was millimeters from his left eye, and Neville took a careful step back.

"Have you learned something today, Mr. Longbottom?"

Snape's voice was colder than the failed potion. Seeing as it was now solid ice, that was saying something.

"To add the beetles on time," he said in a barely audible voice.

Snape didn't seem to care what Neville had said.

"Ten points from Hufflepuff for nearly causing a crisis. Had it not been for Miss Granger, you would have been in the Hospital Wing for hours, perhaps days. And _who knows_ what damage you could have caused to my classroom." His last words sounded particularly threatening. It seemed to Neville that the Professor cared far more about his classroom than the safety of his students, including Neville.

The young Hufflepuff glanced at Hermione, who still had her wand out. Her eyes were bright and alert, belying her tired face.

"Thanks," Neville whispered to her.

Snape waved his own wand and vanished Neville's potion entirely.

"Begin again. You have twenty minutes." Snape turned to walk away, his robes swishing. He suddenly changed his mind and turned back around.

"Three points to Hufflepuff for averting a crisis," he said smoothly, looking at Hermione.

_And absolutely superb reflexes!_ Zoe cackled triumphantly in Hermione's mind.

"Thank you," Hermione answered the Professor, sounding rather surprised.

Snape walked to the other side of the room and began looking over the Ravenclaws' cauldrons. Luckily nobody else had messed up their potions while the incident with Neville's cauldron had occurred.

Neville shivered and started on another potion. Hermione carefully and quietly instructed him on shortcuts.

"But that's not on the list of steps," Neville hissed at one point. She had told him to add rosemary when none was listed.

"Trust me," she said empathetically.

Still dubious, Neville made the addition, then a few stirs contrary to Snape's instructions.

Hermione and several of the Ravenclaws had already finished their potions and bottled them up. Minutes before class ended, everyone but Neville had finished.

He hurried to add the last ingredient as the bell rang. Everybody was done, and hurried out as quickly as possible. Hermione cleaned her own things and waited by Neville as he stirred it fifteen times clockwise.

"You're out of time," Snape drawled as he walked slowly over. "I suppose that will be zero marks for the day, Mr. Longbottom."

"No, sir," Neville somehow said. He carefully bottled a vial of his potion and handed it to the Professor, who took it and inspected it.

Hermione smiled proudly. Zoe may have provided the instructions, and she had told Neville, but he had completed the revised potion quickly and efficiently.

"That's not possible," Snape said harshly. "It takes a full hour, if not more. It cannot be completed in twenty minutes. How did you -"

He stared at Neville, who trembled but met his eyes. He was scared, yes. He hadn't been this scared since Great Uncle Algie had been holding him out an open window, and Neville thought he was going to die with his head splattered open on the pavement like a broken egg... He wondered if Snape was going to hit him, like Great Uncle Edward did when he took on that same voice...

Snape's eyes widened and he looked away from Neville.

Hermione frowned, wondering at the brief flash of pity in Snape's eyes.

"Tell me, Longbottom," he said forcefully.

"I – I don't remember exactly," Neville admitted. "Hermione helped me."

"Miss Granger?" Snape didn't look entirely surprised that Neville hadn't come up with the changes himself. "Tell me what you did."

Slowly, with a small smile on her face, Hermione explained what the steps she had led Neville through. Snape went from being mild shock to full blown incredulity.

"You are muggleborn, Miss Granger?"

"Yes."

"Received your letter two months ago?"

"Yes."

"Therefore, you had _two months at most _to study Potions?"

"Yes."

"So, after that study... You were able to create an entirely new process for a potion that Potion Masters around the world have never come up with."

"My parents always told me I was clever," Hermione smiled cheerily, but Neville couldn't help but notice her cheeks paling.

_Not getting a good vibe here, _Zoe thought, right before it happened.

"Are you?" Snape drawled. His eyes practically flashed, and he met Hermione's eyes.

Hermione gave out a small cry as her entire body tensed. Neville watched in shock as she began to shake in small, jerky motions.

The hairs on his arms stood up, and he felt something in the air – something he had never felt before. Then a cauldron on the other side of the room spontaneously combusted, followed by another, and another.

"Hermione!" Neville screamed, terrified. "Professor!"

Snape was standing stock still, seemingly lost in thought as he continued to look into Hermione's eyes.

Neville grabbed Snape's arm and yanked it harshly towards him. The Professor stumbled and looked at Neville in shock.

"Do something!" Neville demanded. "She's still – like _that!"_

Hermione was still seizing uncontrollably while things around them exploded. Snape glanced at her for several moments before waving his wand at her and murmuring a spell.

The girl froze in place before collapsing to the floor. Snape reached forward and caught her before she hit her head.

"What did you do to her?" Neville asked, horrified. "What are you doing with her _now?"_

"Taking her to the Hospital Wing," Snape said rather crisply.

He had Hermione hanging limply in his arms like a rag doll. After muttering a lightening charm, Snape walked briskly out of the classroom and down the hall with Hermione draped over his bent arms.

Neville hurried to keep up with him. He stayed quiet for the walk to Madam Pomfrey's domain, still completely frightened and at a loss as to what had happened.

* * *

Severus Snape was not a kind man. Everyone knew it, and many said it in his hearing. Most of the time he didn't care at all. Kindness was overrated. Still, it wasn't like he was a monster. He hadn't attempted to inflict serious pain on anyone in a long time.

Severus Snape was not a generous teacher. He did not give compliments easily. He never abused his students, not beyond a bit of verbal insults that taught them what flattery wouldn't.

Today he had abused a student and caused her serious harm.

To Snape's defense, he hadn't meant to do it. He had simply done what he'd been in the habit of doing for over a decade. He had been curious, very curious, and upset when young Miss Granger had discovered and used a technique that he hadn't discovered until his fifth year. He had then attempted to read her mind.

Most students did not know of Legilimency, the fine art of mind reading in which Severus Snape was proficient. Fewer still knew of Occlumency, the art of defending from Legilimency, and only a small number of the upper year Ravenclaws and Slytherins had actually practiced Occlumency.

So it was generally a simple matter for Severus Snape to enter their minds as he wished and find out what he wanted to know. It was immoral and illegal and he didn't usually give a damn. He wasn't physically hurting them by it. He was merely finding what he needed to know; most of the times he used it was when he was seeking the culprit in a crime and he couldn't learn the truth _without_ Legilimency.

Today he had entered a girl's mind out of simple curiosity. Somehow, he had hurt her, damaged her.

Hermione Granger now lay unconscious in a hospital bed. A man and a boy sat near her. The boy was her friend, an innocent little Hufflepuff quite loyal to her after knowing her for five days. The man was Severus Snape.

Severus Snape sat near her bed. He ignored the mousy, frightened boy sitting beside him. The Potions Master's head was bowed and his expression unreadable. He tried to overcome the guilt he felt by focusing on the situation again.

Miss Granger's mind had been easy to enter at first. Her simple thoughts were on the outermost layer of her mind. Trace thoughts about making her potion, wanting to laugh at the ridiculousness of her flirty housemates, wanting to help Neville, and then wondering what was for lunch.

Then Severus Snape had pushed deeper. He was completely unprepared. Instead of any kind of organization, bits and pieces of thoughts and memories overlapped constantly.

He flickered from an image of Hermione walking on the Hogwarts grounds outside the greenhouses - to a woman who looked like Hermione smiling warmly – to a boy laughing cruelly – to a girl slapping an older girl – to a moment when an older girl read a book and watched other girls laughing together – to a kiss between two seemingly random people on a street corner – to an image of a bloody, broken, unrecognizable body – to Hermione kicking a boy in the shins – to a sunlit afternoon at a beach – to a screaming woman experiencing the worst kind of pain: loss – to a laughing Hermione with two adults who held her close – to two young students, a boy and girl, working over their potion together and murmuring things softly – to a strange trail of gold and silver glitter flowing through the night sky – to a man holding a woman down and kicking her harshly – to a boy apologizing – to Hermione eating a gooey chocolate chip cookie – to a woman in dark cell, frantically eating moss – to four friends in the Great Hall grinning – to a man and woman making love – to a little girl with a broomstick, trying to fly – to another image, and another, until he could barely remember any of them and was utterly confused.

Someone had grabbed his arm and he was pulled out of her mind. He had finally realized that Miss Granger was having some type of seizure and exhibiting uncontrolled bursts of wandless magic. He had stunned her and brought her to the hospital wing, vaguely aware of that mousy boy Longbottom running along behind with his heavy footsteps and even heavier breathing.

They had arrived and he had explained Miss Granger's symptoms to Madam Pomfrey, who fussed over her, running multiple diagnostic spells that revealed absolutely nothing.

Severus Snape tried to remember the images. Some were sweet and calming, fitting for a young muggle-born girl. Others were of people screaming, of blood and pain. Where had Miss Granger seen such terrible things? He had a nagging feeling that he had seen some of the images before, but lacked enough real memory of his legilimency attempt to place them.

The most puzzling question was why her mind was so disorganized. She had been quiet in his class except for when she was aiding her friend. She was clearly incredibly smart, as her new version of the anti-boil potion proved. Then of course, she had amazing reflexes. Snape had seen the explosion start from the corner of his eye and reached for his wand – but by the time it was up in the air, she had frozen the dangerous exploding liquid.

How had she done that? Freezing charms were third year material, but she had obviously read ahead. She had power and focus, and reflexes better than him... Severus Snape was a master dueler, though he hadn't had to use his formidable skills in many years. He had lived through a war despite playing the most dangerous role there was to play: that of a double agent.

Why had she begun seizing? Why had her magic begin to wreak havoc on his classroom like that? It was clearly a result of his legilimency, though he had no idea why.

There was a low groan.

Severus Snape and Neville Longbottom's eyes shot over to the girl lying in the bed. She was slowly stirring. They both glanced at each other.

Neville stared at his Professor fiercely, telling him without words that he would defend his friend from whatever Snape tried.

Professor Snape blinked in surprise at the mousy little boy's ferocious look. He tried to convey regret in his own look, and Neville looked surprised and mildly mollified.

_Perhaps not so much a mouse, _Severus Snape thought to himself. _A terrier, protecting its mistress from a viper he fears has poisoned her..._

"Hermione," Neville said gently, looking down at the girl as he stepped to her and took her hand. "How are you feeling?"

Hermione blinked at him. Severus Snape did not miss the way her eyes darted around the room, taking in all the people and their places as well as the doors and windows.

"Fine," she said with a yawn. "A little tired, and I have a bit of a headache, but -"

"Miss Granger!" Madam Pomfrey said in shock as she hurried over. "You're awake!"

"Yes," Hermione said slowly.

"You had a seizure," Pomfrey said soothingly as she held a wet cloth over Hermione's forehead. "We don't know what caused it."

Hermione glanced at Snape. Her gaze was meaningful. He knew instantly that she knew what he had done: that he had caused her seizure.

"I have a history of epilepsy," she told Pomfrey smoothly. "One seizure when I was three, two when I was six, and one when I was ten. There's no prevention. They happen at completely random intervals; nobody can predict when the next one happens. I could have one tomorrow, or I may not have one for twenty years."

Madam Pomfrey nodded slowly.

"There are no magical cures for epilepsy," she informed her patient.

"I'm aware of that," Hermione said softly, glancing at Neville and giving him a smile. "It's something I have to live with."

Poppy Pomfrey looked at the young girl sadly but fondly, already liking the first year. She was intelligent, of that there was no doubt, and mature, for she was accepting of the things she could not change. Not many adults could say the same.

"I have some Rejuvenating Potions if you wish," Pomfrey told her. "But you may go when you want. I know lunch has just begun in the Great Hall."

"I'll take one potion, please," Hermione smiled at her.

Severus Snape was quiet as Hermione stood up with Neville's help and stretched.

"Thank you for bringing me here, Professor," Hermione said, looking at Snape.

The Potions Master nodded his head.

"See that you do not _seize_ in my classroom again," he said, to clear any thought that he cared.

Neville and Poppy looked shocked and horrified. Hermione just gave him a tiny smile, and Snape felt a strange jolt in his chest. She had seen right through his act.

He turned and swept out, robes billowing behind him.

Neville gaped at his dramatic exit, Poppy shook her head ruefully.

Hermione wrote herself a mental memo: _learn how to billow like Severus. _

"He may seem harsh, but he's a good man," Poppy told the students.

"I believe it," Hermione smiled at the Healer. "After all, he brought me here, didn't he?"

The two first years thanked Madam Pomfrey and made their goodbyes before leaving. As they walked to the Great Hall, Neville glanced at Hermione.

She looked strangely happy.

"Could you have died?" He asked quietly.

She glanced at him quickly.

"There was a very small chance of it. It was a much shorter fit than I've ever had before."

"And – they happen randomly, people can't cause them?" Neville asked nervously, remembering vividly the moments leading up to Hermione's seizure.

"Quite randomly. You could no more cause them than Professor Snape," Hermione lied smoothly. Neville smiled in relief, his faith in their Potions Professor not as low as it had been, and they continued walking.

There was a silence for a few minutes.

"I hope it's twenty years," Neville said suddenly.

"What?" Hermione frowned in confusion.

"Before your next seizure," he said earnestly.

The thought _I wouldn't like it if you died_ hung in the air between them.

Hermione took his hand and squeezed it.

"You're a good friend, Neville," she declared.

For the hundredth time since he had met Hermione, Neville Longbottom felt supremely happy.


	5. Part 5

Disclaimer: Does this look like it belongs to me? If it did, rest assured I would have it in book format, not here. Luckily I love fan fiction, so owning these characters doesn't matter to me, I just love to play with them.

* * *

Chapter Five

"Miss Granger, I simply don't understand why this continues to happen," Professor McGonagall looked down sharply at the young Hufflepuff student.

"I succeeded, didn't I?" Hermione Granger looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes.

"Yes, the transfiguration was perfect," McGonagall reassured her, glancing at the pile of shiny silver needles that had once been matchsticks. "The sparks that accompanied the spell... I have never encountered that before. Try it once more." She laid another match down on Hermione's desk.

"Muto Argento!" Hermione swished her wand.

A small shower of purple sparks cascaded from her wand just as the match turned into a perfect needle.

"Low level transfiguration spells are not supposed to cause visible magical residue, unlike curses and hexes," the Professor began to lecture, and the class all stopped their work to listen. "The power, combined with the malicious intent that it takes to perform a correct hex, jinx, or curse, creates a different magical energy that manifests as either sparks, or more commonly, a thin line of light. If there is malicious intent behind a spell, the color of the sparks of line of light should be red or green. Blue or yellow light indicates positive intent. Color of spells has been used in many magical criminal trials to prove intent, and eventually the innocence or guilt of the defendant. Of course, those highly skilled in the arts of Curses can fool their own spells to indicate positive intent when they truly mean to be malicious, which is why using spell colors as evidence in court has fallen out of practice."

"Then what about purple?" Neville asked, glancing over at Hermione.

"Studies have been done, but because of the scarcity of spells accompanied by purple residue, no conclusions have been made," Professor McGonagall continued. "Now, all talk of color aside, all of the spells we will be practicing this year, including today's lesson spell, should be of low enough power to not cause any magical residue. Perhaps you are simply putting too much energy into the spell."

"How should I lessen it?" Hermione questioned. "The only thing that should matter is strong intent, combined with the motion."

"Make a smaller swish with your wand," McGonagall sighed. "Speak a little softer, and lower your intent."

Hermione tried it, but the sparks still appeared.

The bell rang. Most of the class got up and began to file out of the classroom.

"Keep trying the spell," McGonagall told Hermione. "With enough practice, I'm sure we can solve your problem."

"Thank you, I will," Hermione smiled at her teacher, grabbed her bag, and went to the door, where Neville was waiting for her.

"The Professor's right, I'm sure the sparks will go away soon," Neville told confidently.

"If we don't know what the problem is, how are we going to fix it?" Hermione scowled, but Neville knew it wasn't directed at him.

"We'll find out," Neville promised. "Anyways, it's lunchtime. Then we have an hour of Defense, and then... the rest of the afternoon free! I love Fridays."

"It's only our first Friday," Hermione grinned at him, her mood lifting. "How do you know?"

"Oh, I just do," Neville said, beginning to walk towards the stairs. "I predict your day will look up."

"I didn't know you were a Seer," Hermione laughed.

Neville closed his eyes and waved his hand in front of him.

"I predict you will soon meet a dark, handsome, stranger..."

Hermione stepped around the corner and walked right into someone.

"Oh!" She gasped, stumbling backwards and resisting the urge to grab for her wand. Chances were slim that someone was actually trying to harm her. Hands reached out to catch her.

"Sorry about that."

Hermione looked up into warm gray eyes.

"It's all right," she said, glancing down and seeing that his hands were still attached to her robes.

"You can let go now," Hermione said calmly.

The boy let go quickly.

"Sorry," he grinned sheepishly.

There was a silence, then the boy gave a little wave and stepped to the side.

"See you around," he said quickly, and headed off.

"What did I tell you?" Neville said, highly amused. "Dark, handsome..."

"He's not that handsome," Hermione said dismissively.

"Hermione, that was Cedric Diggory. Haven't you heard Lea and Sally-Anne talking about him?"

"Oh, so he's that Cedric," Hermione shrugged and started to walk again. "Don't know what all the fuss is about. And really, those two are younger than me. Hormones shouldn't have kicked in yet."

Neville snorted.

"So, have a favorite class yet?" He enquired with that sweet smile, so like Frank's that it made Zoe bittersweetly happy every time she saw it.

"Not really," Hermione smiled at him. "Charms, maybe. Professor Flitwick didn't fuss over my purple residue as much as McGonagall. Although, you know, Potions was quite fun too."

"Ha!" Neville shook his head. "That was a lesson I'd like to forget about as soon as possible. Guess what my favorite class is?"

"Hmmm... Anything but herbology!" Hermione teased.

"That obvious?" Neville just grinned.

"You have a greener thumb than I," Hermione told him.

"That's for sure," her friend agreed. "At least I've got that – you're better at everything else so far – ahh!"

Hermione grabbed her wand to point it upwards, simultaneously cataloguing what had just happened – someone had dropped a water balloon on Neville's head. The blond boy sputtered and hurriedly wiped the water off his friend.

_Peeves,_ Zoe said quickly. _It has to be..._

"Peeves!" Hermione shrieked.

The poltergeist laughed loudly as he zoomed over Neville's head, three more water balloons in his arms.

"Ooh, Ickle firsties," he declared. "I'm so scared..."

Seven years of memories of Peeves filled Hermione's mind. Plans spoiled, romantic evenings ruined... Zoe had only managed to scare Peeves off completely in her last year. The poltergeist was stubborn and obnoxious, and she had hoped to teach him a lesson since she had graduated from Hogwarts...

Hermione growled and waved her wand, muttering something quietly.

It was Peeves' turn to shriek as purple sparks struck the balloons in his arms, showering him with water.

"Bad, bad firstie – using magic in the stairwells – I'll report you to Dumbledore – "

"Don't mess with me, or my friends," Hermione said, jabbing her wand in the air.

Neville watched her in awe as he squeezed the water out of his hair.

Peeves stuck his tongue out at her, but still soared away up the stairs, obviously running away.

"Thanks," Neville said gratefully.

"Not a problem. I really don't like Peeves," Hermione stared after the fleeing poltergeist, a hard glint in her eyes.

"What, you've met him before?" Neville asked, confused. Hermione and he had stuck together for the last week, and she had never wandered off by herself, other than to go to the bathroom or sleep in the girl's dorms.

"No," Hermione said smoothly. "This one time was plenty. I'd be happy if we never saw him again."

"Here's hoping," Neville agreed.

Suddenly clapping met their ears. Standing at the stairwell above them were two red headed boys, almost identical, both grinning.

"Very clever -"

"We've never scared Peeves off so quickly -"

"Before, not in three years. Probably because he got the jump on us in first year, and we -"

"Couldn't retaliate at the time. Never instilled the proper fear in him."

They finished each other's sentences so easily, Hermione could tell they'd had years of practice.

"Allow us to introduce ourselves!" One declared, hopping down the stairs to take Hermione's hand, which she let him shake.

"I'm Gred," the second one said, waving from behind his twin.

"And I'm Forge."

"Nemione," Hermione grinned.

"Herville," Neville added, catching on.

"Very good!" Forge laughed in delight. "You catch on quick. So, let's get down to business, shall we?"

_They sound so much like James and Sirius,_ Zoe thought fondly.

"I don't believe we have any business between us," Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Except lunch," Neville said, taking a hold of Hermione's elbow.

"Which we are fashionably late to," Hermione finished, and began to walk down the steps with Neville on her arm.

"Not so fast!" Gred protested.

"We just have a few questions," Forge beamed charmingly, and taking a hold of Hermione's elbow.

"You know, it's just been a day for inappropriate touching by strangers," Hermione said, turning to Neville.

_Okay, that's just begging for a clever response, _Zoe warned.

"You'll have to say 'please' if you want any 'inappropriate touching,'" Gred winked.

Hermione just rolled her eyes, and Neville made a little sound that was obviously a laugh he was trying to hide.

"How did you fly in through the ceiling before the Sorting?" Forge said quickly. "Some of the older students say that you came in on a flying horse of some kind... But we didn't see any such thing. Most people think it was a complicated spell, with an illusion mixed in to convince some people they saw a horse."

Hermione turned to him and smirked.

"If you want to replicate our trick, maybe you should try researching it. Books are useful things, you know."

Forge looked disappointed.

"Come on, just give us a hint," Gred said, stepping in front of Neville and preventing the two Hufflepuffs from going any farther down the stairs.

"Have fun figuring it out on your own," Hermione slipped out of Forge's grasp and waved her wand, pushing George out of the way with a gentle flow of purplish smoke.

"Catch you later, Fred, George."

As Neville and Hermione walked down the stairs, they could hear the twins' voices.

"Well, now what are we going to do?"

"We could always try reading, like she said."

"No, Gred, that would be giving in. Don't worry, she'll come around," Fred said confidently. "We'll wear her down. Nobody can resist the Weasley charm for that long..."

Hermione just grinned.

_They're not sure whether to love or hate us, _Zoe thought. _Actually, it may become a bit of both. They _are_ teenage boys, after all._

Hermione shuddered. She was much too young to be thinking about crushes. Zoe's 'adult' memories were some things she had never tried to think about before.

Ewww...


	6. Part 6

Disclaimer: Does this look like it belongs to me? If it did, rest assured I would have it in book format, not here. Luckily I love fan fiction, so owning these characters doesn't matter to me, I just love to play with them.

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviewing. I love them all - nothing is better encouragement. I'm glad you're enjoying my story.

* * *

"They won't stop looking at us," Neville whispered to his friend. The Weasley twins had indeed been watching them through lunch.

"Ignore them," Hermione said as she spread caramel on an apple slice.

"You think they'll figure it out?" Neville wondered.

"Eventually, yes," Hermione shrugged. "Want to explore the grounds after Defense class?"

"Sounds good," Neville nodded. He took a blueberry muffin and wrapped it in a napkin. "Afternoon snack – you want me to grab one for you?"

_Ooh, a lemon poppyseed muffin._

"Lemon poppyseed, please," Hermione answered absentmindedly. Then she shook her head. "I mean, I'll take a blueberry one too."

"All right," Neville chuckled. He was becoming used to eating with Hermione. She would often reach for a dish, almost serve herself something, before mumbling and putting it back.

Just last night he had caught her spooning herself some fish soup.

"Didn't you say that you were vegetarian?" Neville had asked.

Hermione had just stared down at her soup.

"Yes. Yes, I am. Have some soup, Neville." She had pushed it to him and served herself a fresh bowl of minestrone, all the while muttering to herself.

Neville thought it was just a strange peculiarity of hers. Hermione was level-headed in many things, but she was always scatter-brained when it came to meals.

'Stop doing that!' Hermione was thinking now. 'It's very annoying.'

_Well, I can't help it that we have very different tastes,_ Zoe thought petulantly. _I've given up a lot for you! I haven't had a steak in twelve years!_

'Oh boo hoo,' Hermione sniffed. 'You'll live. Anyways, its _my_ gag reflex we have to worry about.'

Zoe grumbled, but tried not to pay attention as Hermione ate her sandwich... Zoe _hated_ the taste of mustard.

Instead Zoe took charge of an eye and began studying the table. She had worked out an arrangement with Hermione long ago, that if Hermione was occupied with something that didn't require much thought, she could use one eye to keep track of things and allow Zoe to have fun with the other one.

"Oh, you're doing the eye thing again," Susan said from across the table.

"Hermione, you know that's really creepy!" Hannah chimed in with a shudder.

"Sorry," Hermione smiled. "I just like being able to keep an eye on... uh, I get bored looking at my food."

_Good job convincing them you're not paranoid,_ Zoe said, only half-joking. She knew Hermione hated driving people away with her paranoia.

"Right," Susan said softly, looking at Hermione worriedly.

_She's got to be Brian's daughter,_ Zoe mused, her eye flicking to Susan. _But she really reminds me more of Brian's sister, Amelia._

"Split a cupcake with me?" Neville offered Hermione, and she accepted.

"Let's head off to Defense," Hermione said quietly, and Neville nodded and followed her away from the table.

"I didn't mean to hurt her feelings," Hannah frowned. "I just..."

"She'll be all right," Wayne said easily to reassure Hannah.

Susan just frowned and watched Hermione go. She had learned many things from her Aunt Amelia, including to look beneath the surface that a person offered the world. In five days, she could already detect that Hermione kept her raw emotions bottled down, and avoided conflict at all costs.

The red haired girl was a very light sleeper, and she had woken several times in the past week to see a light on behind Hermione's curtains. So Hermione stayed up late reading... Sometimes past five o'clock in the morning. It seemed like she rarely slept. Nobody else had seemed to notice yet, but Susan could see the tiredness that hung over the brunette daily.

There was no doubt about it - Hermione Granger was quite a mystery – but one that Susan was determined to crack.

* * *

The instant Hermione walked into the Defense classroom, her senses were assaulted by a variety of strong smells. She felt dizzy, and swayed in place.

"Hey!" Neville reached out to grab her. "What's wrong?"

Hermione tried to breathe deeply, which turned out to be a bad idea, as she just inhaled more of the stifling aromas.

"What – what do I do?" Hermione murmured.

"Sit down," Neville said quickly. "Come on." He led her to the nearest seat, and lowered her gently into it.

"Talk to me. Tell me what happened."

"Can't breathe," Hermione said, turning to look up at Neville, her eyes glossy.

'Help me,' Hermione thought to Zoe. 'What do I do?'

For the first time in Hermione's life, she got no response from Zoe.

"Gone," Hermione gasped, grabbing onto Neville, and he grew even more anxious.

"What's gone?"

Hermione looked like she was about to speak, when suddenly she began to sneeze. They were no delicate sneezes, but gigantic, loud sneezes that rocked her entire body. They came quickly and rapidly.

"Hey, is she okay?" Ernie MacMillan had just walked in and was looking at Hermione in concern.

"I don't think so," Neville said as he dropped his bag on the ground and pulled Hermione to her feet. "Get on up, now. Let's get out of here."

"But class is starting in five minutes," Ernie called after him.

Neville really couldn't care less about class at the moment.

They were in the hallway then, with the door closing behind them, and Hermione's sneezes began to let up.

"Hey, we're going to the Infirmary," Neville said firmly. "Madame Pomfrey will have a look at you."

Hermione's eyes slowly returned to their natural state as she stopped sneezing.

"Back," she whispered.

"Yes, you're starting a bad habit," Neville agreed, propelling her towards the stairs. "Back to the Infirmary we go."

Hermione just smiled dazedly. That wasn't what she had meant.

'What happened?' She asked Zoe.

_I don't know, _Zoe sounded scared. _It was like I was asleep... But it wasn't a good sleep, I felt... trapped, stifled. _

'What made you sleep?'

_Something in that room, I'm sure of it._

Hermione thought, remembering the strong smells.

"It was something in that room," she stated out loud.

"Maybe you have allergies," Neville said as he wrapped an arm around her waist and began walking her down the stairs.

Hermione turned to look at him while they walked.

She had never let anyone this close to her... (Besides her parents, who she knew she could trust.) The plan had been to protect Neville – but he had quickly slipped under her defenses, becoming the first friend she'd ever had.

Zoe had forgotten how good it felt to touch someone else, to be held. She hadn't had that in so long...

Hermione shivered a little, and Neville held her tighter.

"We're almost there," he promised, and then stopped suddenly. "Hello, Professor."

Severus Snape stood on the stairwell, looking at them.

"Is something the matter?" he drawled, seeing how Hermione hung in Neville's arms.

"We went into the Defense room," Neville told him as he began to walk again. "She got dizzy, and then she started sneezing uncontrollably – it didn't stop until I brought her outside."

"See Madam Pomfrey, then," Snape said, nodding to them. "I doubt it is serious." With that, he walked away, and Neville was struck with anger. To have such a cavalier attitude to Hermione's health... no matter what she said, he didn't have to like Snape, and he wouldn't.

In a minute they were in the Hospital Wing, and Neville was explaining the situation to Madam Pomfrey.

"It sounds like a bad allergic reaction," Pomfrey decided, and took them back upstairs to talk with the Defense Professor.

The Professor turned out to be called Quirrell, and he was rather funny-looking, Neville decided. He had pale skin, lips that trembled even when he wasn't talking, and wore a large purple turban. It would have been funny if their conversation hadn't been so serious.

The class waited while Quirrell brought one item at a time out to the hallway where Hermione waited.

The fifth item he carried out was a pot with incense sticks and a large purple gemstone in it. He held it up, and Hermione began to sneeze again.

Quirrell raced off with it, and stashed it in his office.

"S-so s-so-sorry," he said to Hermione, quite apologetic.

"It's all right," Hermione said as she blew her nose in a handkerchief. "I'll be all right now."

"G-good, we can st-start the l-lesson," Quirrell said, and beckoned them back into the room.

Pomfrey gave Hermione a small hug before she left.

"You better not come to see me again for a while," she said with kind, soft eyes.

Hermione just smiled and accepted the hug. She really was getting better at this affection business.

She sat down in at the desk where Neville had left their bags, between Neville and Justin Finch-Fletchley.

"Glad you're okay," Justin smiled at her, quite friendly.

"Thanks," Hermione murmured, and the lesson began.

They didn't practice a single spell, instead learning the history of the Dark Arts, as told by a man with a high voice and a stutter.

Neville sighed quietly. This was even worse than potions...

After a few minutes, Hermione let her bangs fall into her face to obscure her eyes.

Zoe still couldn't focus or think properly with the object of her allergies only a room away, but at least she wasn't falling asleep anymore. Zoe guessed that either the gemstone, not the incense, may have been the cause of the problem. She had heard from a few older students that Professor Quirrell was very paranoid about the dark arts. It may have been meant to keep spirits away, dark or otherwise – and Zoe was definitely an added spirit. Zoe felt a little angry at Quirrell. If he wasn't so paranoid, he might be able to realize that not all spirits are dark. She might be stuck in Hermione's head, but she would never hurt her intentionally.

_This is dreadful, _Zoe moaned after listening to Quirrell for only a minute. She had had several good DADA teachers at her time in Hogwarts, and even the worst one (out of ten - none had lasted more than a year, including her memorable 4th year when the teacher had been replaced three times) was twenty times more interesting than Quirrell.

Hermione closed her eyes and tuned out, not bothering to listen, instead chatting with Zoe. When Zoe focused only on the conversation, she didn't feel sleepy or have trouble thinking. It was a good lesson in concentration for both of them.

Finally the bell rang, and Neville poked Hermione in the side to get her up.

"You okay?" He asked as they slowly walked out.

"Headache," Hermione grimaced. It wasn't entirely a lie.

"Still up for exploring the grounds?"

Hermione smiled at him.

"Yes, I am."


	7. Part 7

Disclaimer: Does this look like it belongs to me? If it did, rest assured I would have it in book format, not here. Luckily I love fan fiction, so owning these characters doesn't matter to me, I just love to play with them.

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviewing. I love them all - nothing is better encouragement. I'm glad you're enjoying my story.

* * *

Neville had stepped into a brand new world where everything was novel and thrilling… Every day he learned more about magic, and he was picking up a new spell every week… Every night he explored the castle with his friend…

His friend. Neville grinned.

Never had Neville imagined that his first friend would be so kind. She was not impatient, and she genuinely seemed to enjoy his company. Hermione was brilliant, but never made him feel stupid. She was quirky, and she made him laugh like he had never laughed before.

Briefly, Neville wondered if his life would be different if he had been able to meet other children before coming to Hogwarts. But other than the occasional Ministry function that his grandmother had brought him to over the years, there had been few opportunities for Neville to meet other children.

After the death of her only son, Augusta Longbottom had preferred to have her grandson close by... making sure that no outside harm could come to him. Neville had consequently grown up almost entirely in the Longbottom Manor. His only real refuge was the family garden, where he had spent many months of his life planting, weeding, watering, and even reading to his favorite Flitterblooms as they were growing up.

Finally, after ten years of teaching him to get by only by following her instructions, Neville's grandmother had decided to cut the cord completely and leave him at the train station to go to Hogwarts, expecting that he could do everything on his own.

Neville had managed to find his way to a cabin… and then fortune, or luck, or something - must have led him to sit with Hermione, Neville thought as he looked fondly at his sleeping friend.

Now they were sitting by the Lake, relaxing after finishing their History of Magic readings. Hermione had fallen asleep on the grass just a minute ago.

Neville didn't disturb her, all too aware that she needed the rest.

He had only to glance at Hermione to know that she didn't sleep enough. Her eyes were lined and her smile, ever so pretty, was still always tired… Hermione yawned throughout the day, at meals, at classes, even when they were relaxing.

When Neville asked her about it, Hermione always smiled and said she was fine. Her usual excuse was that she had stayed up too late reading…

But after two and a half weeks, Neville found he could tell a lot about Hermione just from watching and listening to her - especially when she was fibbing. There was no way she was staying up that late every night on purpose. There was something else going on...

He had been reading ahead in their Herbology book for about twenty minutes when Hermione jolted awake.

"Abby," She gasped, her eyes wild and her hair mussed.

"Hey," Neville said, reaching out to touch her hand kindly. "Bad dream?"

Hermione looked at him for a minute, then smiled.

"Better now," She said in a perfectly calm voice. Neville's heart clenched as he watched a tear trail down her cheek, noticed only by him.

"You have them a lot," Neville pointed out boldly.

"Sometimes," Hermione evaded, and Neville frowned.

"Hermione… Did something happen?" He asked, worried. "I mean, to you, maybe a long time ago? What could give you such bad dreams?"

She looked him right in the eye and smiled sadly.

"There are some things, Neville, that I will tell you when I'm ready. Some things did happen a long time ago… But like you said - they're just dreams now, nothing more."

Neville nodded as she squeezed his hand in her own.

He hoped she was telling the truth.

* * *

Hermione sat in bed at three in the morning, trying not to cry. Tonight had been worse than the other nights in the past week…

She had read an advanced Defense book earlier, which included several spells that Zoe had seen used first hand. Although she tried her hardest, somedays Zoe couldn't prevent her worst memories from leaking to the forefront of Hermione's thoughts. It was more than distracting, it was depressing and horrifying at the same time. It was little wonder that Hermione was on edge all day.

Neville had been especially kind today, always making sure she was eating enough, helping her when she forgot little things like what the assignments were… He was such a sweet boy, Hermione thought, promptly regretted it.

A wave of sadness came from Zoe as she remembered the way Frank always helped her keep track of their assignments, and how much she missed her own friends…

Hermione punched her pillow, furious again. She couldn't think of _anything_ that she wanted to without negative mental and emotional consequences, it seemed.

_I wish you'd just shut up, _She cried to Zoe. _Can't you be quiet and let me sleep?_

_ I'm trying,_ Zoe said miserably. _I really am. I'm sorry…_

Hermione sighed as Zoe took on that tone, that one of absolute honesty and regret... Hermione couldn't be angry with her when Zoe was trying so hard, and feeling guilty when she failed.

_No, no, its okay,_ Hermione sighed. _I know you're trying._

_Thank you,_ Zoe said softly, trying to clear her mind and only focus on Hermione's memories. She reviewed what they had learned that week in classes as an exercise to focus their minds, and Hermione smiled.

_Sometimes I don't think I have to learn anything because of you, _Hermione chuckled.

_Like that would stop you from reading the longest books in the library and memorizing every spell in them,_ Zoe smiled back.

There was a strange sound, like knocking… Zoe's nerves instantly snapped to attention.

Hermione instinctively whipped out her wand from its spot under her pillow.

_Get them,_ Zoe thought immediately, terrified by the slightest noise.

Hermione sucked in a deep breath, managing to slow down and think before acting - something it had taken her years to accomplish.

"Hello?" She said softly.

"Hermione, it's Susan."

Hermione frowned. She hadn't been expecting Susan Bones...

"Come in." With a swish of her wand, she undid a few of the wards. Zoe mentally flinched, reminding Hermione how unsafe it could be to let down the wards.

Susan opened a curtain, smiling shyly.

"I brought you some tea."

"Oh." Hermione carefully put away her wand, and patted the bed where Susan could sit.

"Sleepy-time tea, my Aunt always called it. Always put me straight to sleep. I thought…" She offered the tea, which Hermione carefully took. "It might help with your insomnia."

"Thank you," Hermione said, blowing on the tea to cool it off as she watched Susan with a calmer gaze. "It's very kind of you."

"You're welcome." Susan showed her dimples.

"I don't bother you, do I?" Hermione asked anxiously. "I put wards up so nobody can hear me when I can't sleep."

"You don't _bother _me," Susan said kindly. "But I am worried about you… Have you tried drinking Dreamless Sleep potions? They'd make you fall asleep instantly."

"I often want to," Hermione sighed. "But Dreamless Sleep is extremely addictive."

"I looked it up," Susan's eyes darted down. "You could be fine taking it just once a week, even for the rest of your life, without becoming an addict."

"You researched it for me?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

"Yes." Susan looked up, wide-eyed. "I want you to feel better."

Hermione felt a rush of warmth, and it wasn't from the tea. She wasn't even that close to Susan - they spoke casually at meals, as acquaintances do… Now Hermione realized she would like to get to know the shy blonde a bit better.

"Thank you." Hermione said earnestly.

"I hope you get some sleep tonight," Susan said, as she stood up and stepped back, until only her face was peeking through the bed curtains.

"Happy birthday." She declared, and was gone.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Susan had already hurried back to her bed.

_I wonder how she knew that_, Hermione thought to herself as she sipped the tea.

The tea was indeed calming, and Hermione settled under the covers, closing her eyes.

_Happy twelfth birthday, darling,_ Zoe said softly, and Hermione smiled as she finally slipped off into dreamland.

* * *

"It's the strangest thing." Minerva McGonagall frowned.

"There's no reasonable explanation for it." Filius Flitwick agreed. "I've checked with every wand expert I know."

"I doubt it's harmful," Pomona Sprout shrugged. "If it is a problem with her intent, it will most likely be fixed in time."

"Muggle-born students often have entirely different perspectives on magical theory than students who are born in wizarding households," Charity Burbage pointed out. "Sometimes, as muggle-borns adapt to the change in culture, the ways that they approach magic can change. Perhaps Miss Granger's so-called sparks will simply disappear as time goes by."

"She's doing just fine in my class," Sinistra pointed out.

"And she's very good at Herbology," Pomona smiled. "How is she at Potions, Severus?"

There was a pause as everyone held their breath.

"Her work is acceptable." Severus Snape glowered at the floor, as he did at every staff meeting.

All the Professors stared.

"Severus," Minerva said in shock.

"That is high praise, coming from you!" Aurora Sinistra laughed.

"Shocking," Poppy Pomfrey chuckled. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a soft spot for the girl."

Snape just glared at her.

"Hmmmph."

* * *

"It's probably gone by now. I mean, unicorns aren't known to linger near human-habitated areas - they're terribly shy," Hermione pointed out.

"Well, just in case," Neville said, quite excitedly.

They both looked at the spot on the edge of the Forbidden Forest where Neville had spotted the unicorn.

"Sorry, Neville," Hermione smiled sadly. "Maybe I'll get to see one another day."

"Well, maybe it went close by!" Neville said hopefully. "Let's check the view from behind the greenhouses."

Deciding to humor him, although she doubted his hopes matched reality, Hermione followed him to the back of Greenhouse Seven.

As they walked along the side, she spotted several shadows up ahead.

Hermione stopped and fingered her wand.

"Neville," she hissed. "There's people up ahead."

"What? No there isn't," Neville blinked slowly. "Come on…"

Hermione's heart began to pound as Neville stepped around the corner. Someone could be waiting to hex him! She had to protect him, and she darted right behind him, a curse on her lips -

"Surprise!"

Hermione managed to close her mouth instead of finishing her curse.

"Happy Birthday!" The group chorused for the second time.

"Oh." Hermione stared for a minute. "Goodness."

"You didn't guess that would happen, did you?" Neville asked proudly.

"No, you were a good actor," Hermione said honestly.

_We should have seen that coming,_ Zoe thought angrily. _What if they had been enemies…_

_It's fine, _Hermione thought back fiercely. _And I don't _have _enemies. They're my friends. _

_ How well do you know them all anyway?_ Zoe pointed out.

Hermione chose to ignore her, and smiled instead as Hannah stepped forward to give her a hug.

"Is it any different, being twelve?" Hannah asked.

"Not really," Hermione said, after accepting the hug and managing not to flinch as much as she usually did.

She smiled at the other first year Hufflepuffs. All ten of them, including Neville, had showed up to what was apparently a surprise birthday party.

"I got cake from the kitchens," Ernie said, rather proudly. "Cedric showed me how to get in."

Sally-Ann sighed dreamily, and turned to Lea to murmur something about Cedric's attractiveness. Everyone else chose to ignore them for a moment.

"It looks great," Hermione said honestly.

"Chocolate, just as you like it," Susan smiled.

Hermione really couldn't stop smiling. As they finished singing happy birthday to her, she quickly wiped away a tear.

She'd only known them for nineteen days - and they apparently still liked her enough to do this for her. Nothing like this had ever happened before to her.

"Make a good wish," Justin instructed her as she blew out all the candles.

"If you get them all in one blow, you'll have a year of good luck!" Megan declared.

As everyone cheered, Hermione blew out all the candles - all in one go.

And now, looking out at her new friends, Hermione had a feeling that she didn't need that luck after all.


	8. Part 8

Disclaimer: Does this look like it belongs to me? If it did, rest assured I would have it in book format, not here. Luckily I love fan fiction, so owning these characters doesn't matter to me, I just love to play with them.

Author's Note: Reminder: Zoe's thoughts are in _italics_, and Hermione's thoughts are surrounded by single 'quote marks.'

Another A/N: Thanks to everyone for reviewing. I love them all - nothing is better encouragement. I'm glad you're enjoying my story.

* * *

Hermione had thought that having friends would make her life easier. In one way it did - Hermione had moments of complete relaxation just sitting and chatting with Neville, or Susan, or Hannah… but she knew Zoe found these activities somewhat dull, and felt uncomfortable in those situations.

Zoe had realized a long time ago - around the time that Hermione was four - that she couldn't trust anyone anymore, even when Hermione wanted her to. No longer able to enjoy the company of others, Zoe had turned to her second favorite pastime - reading.

Thankfully Hermione loved to read, and before coming to Hogwarts, they had spent most of their time just reading - absorbing information while they discussed it together.

Now, as Hermione made time for social interactions, Zoe felt they weren't learning things as quickly as she wanted. She had one goal in life (_was_ it life? or death? oh, whatever…) and that was to read as much as she could.

On the night of the twelfth of October, Hermione was in the library. More specifically, in the Restricted Section.

They had been reading up on the most interesting spells they could find. Then Hermione would put up wards - visual and auditory ones only on their side - and she would practice the spells they learned.

When they finished, Hermione always made sure to cast ten low level spells that would be expected of a first year student. That way, if she was caught out of the dorm after hours… Well, not even the most powerful Professors could force her wand to reveal more than the last seven spells with a Priori Incantatem.

Engrossed as she was in an ancient book on Egyptian wards, Hermione heard a door creak.

Immediately, she tucked the book away and took out her wand, even as she ducked under the table.

She couldn't see anybody - but she could definitely hear two sets of footsteps, and a bit of murmuring.

"Come on," someone was muttering. "Nobody's here - just take it off!"

In a strange wave effect, two people appeared - and a silvery something flew around them, then stopped, falling like a piece of cloth.

_Invisibility Cloak,_ Zoe thought, quite delighted.

There were two first years - who they both remembered very well - if not on their own merit, but because of their fathers.

Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott walked down the aisles, looking briefly down each one.

"You sure Filch won't come by?"

"Positive. I tipped him off about Potter and Weasley being in the Trophy Room. They really thought I'd duel them there at midnight… Idiots." Malfoy finished scornfully. "Now we have time to find what we need…"

They ducked under the rope leading to the Restricted Section, and their voices faded from Hermione's hearing.

_We should find out what they're up to_, Zoe thought speculatively.

'How?' Hermione frowned. 'We don't want to get caught.'

She left the book on the chair, and quietly crept out of the library.

_We could take them,_ Zoe said, irritated.

'Of course we could. But _why_ would we want to?' Hermione asked in return, as she quietly made her way down the stairs.

Zoe sighed, anticipating a boring night of staying in the room.

But then Hermione turned down the hallway on the third floor.

_Where are we going?_

'To warn Potter and Weasley, of course.'

There it was again - Hermione trying to help others, at the risk of getting herself into trouble. Zoe tried to persuade her against it, but Hermione just ignored her.

Hermione paused outside of the Trophy Room, and listened. Sure enough - there were some faint voices coming from inside the room. She opened the door and walked in - and saw Harry Potter and Ron Weasley standing there, their wands out and pointed at her.

"Put those away," Hermione said, walking towards them. "I overheard Malfoy and Nott in the library - they were laughing because they weren't planning on showing up to your duel, but told Filch instead."

"Bloody bastard," Ron scowled.

Harry frowned, but he didn't look too surprised.

"Thanks… Hermione, right?"

"Yeah," Hermione nodded at him. "We should probably get out of here."

"Sounds good to me," Harry agreed. He walked over to the door, and Hermione and Ron followed him out - only to see...

"Shit," Ron said blandly.

There was Peeves.

"Ooh, ickle firsts," Peeves cackled, and then realized it was Hermione. "Oh, its _you._"

"Yeah, its me," Hermione raised an eyebrow. "How's your evening going, Peeves?"

He blinked, trying to figure out her game.

"Dull, I suppose." Peeves watched Hermione tapping her wand casually on her knuckles, and tried not to look too worried.

After all, she _had_ cursed him before..

"Well, I have an idea for you. I know for a fact that two first year Slytherins - who have been mocking you behind your back for weeks - are currently in the Restricted Section of the Library. Could be a perfect chance for some revenge?"

"You mean that little brat Malfoy?" Peeves looked delighted.

"Yep."

Peeves smirked, rubbing his hands together.

"I suppose I can let you off easy, then…" He looked at Harry and Ron, who were clearly nervous. He laughed, and sped off.

Harry and Ron sighed in relief.

Then, from around the corner, they heard an angry cry.

"Watch where you're going, you bloody poltergeist!" Filch screeched.

The first years froze and looked at each other.

After a moment's pause, Hermione took off, running quietly in the opposite direction, looking for another door - but each one she tried was _locked._ By the time she realized she was out of luck, they were at the very end of the corridor.

Hermione muttered an unlocking charm, and darted in as soon as it was unlocked. Harry and Ron hurried in after her, nearly tripping over each other, and Hermione closed and locked the door again.

Then she turned - and her wand snapped up.

"Hellhound," Hermione breathed, echoing Zoe's frantic thoughts. Her lips almost moved, then closed. Zoe had tried to shoot a reducto straight at it.

'I'm not going to kill a chained animal, no matter how terrifying it looks,' Hermione insisted to Zoe. 'Get a hold of yourself,' she chastised the older woman.

Ron was whimpering with fright, backed against the door, and Harry was absolutely silent - but Hermione didn't notice - she was too busy thinking.

It was a gigantic hellhound, no doubt about it. It had three heads, with bright, snapping eyes - and shining, sharp teeth - and it was drooling in anticipation. It looked like it had been too long since it had eaten.

Hermione carefully put her other hand in her robes pocket - and took out a napkin. She managed to get a hold of what was inside of it - and shook off the napkin itself.

Slowly, she broke it into several small pieces. Then, she lobbed a piece towards the left head - it caught it in its mouth and ate it immediately. The other heads quieted, and looked at Hermione with anticipation.

Each head was soon munching on its own cookie piece, and Hermione's heart rate slowed slightly.

"Tastes good, hmm?" She asked softly. The left head, which had finished first, nodded eagerly, and opened its mouth, clearly expecting more.

Hermione looked down and saw that it was standing on a trapdoor.

_Of course, its guarding something._

"What's it guarding?" She heard Harry whispering - he had figured it out too.

Outside, they heard Filch muttering to his cat.

"They're not here yet - but its almost midnight. We'll lay in wait, shall we, darling?"

"Filch has got to be better than this," Ron groaned, grabbing at Harry's sleeve. "Let's just go…"

"No." Harry looked at Hermione, who met his sharp green eyes with her own dark brown ones. He got the message. "We want to find out…"

The left head began to growl lightly, as if pouting. Hermione knew that she had to try something else - she was running out of food.

"I don't know if we can stun it," Hermione said, her voice light and friendly. "We need to make it sleep. What spells do you know?"

"Nothing," Harry groaned. "God, why haven't I learned anything?"

Hermione would have laughed, but she was too focused on smiling at the dog heads.

"If I toss what's left of the cookie… over to the left side… They might fight over it - they'd have to move, if I get it in the corner - we could go through the trapdoor."

"That… could work," Harry said faintly.

"Or they could eat us," Ron groaned, not liking the plan.

"On three then." Hermione decided.

"One," Harry said softly.

"Two," Ron sighed.

"Three," Hermione chirped, and she tossed the cookie into the corner.

The Hellhound took off after the cookie - abandoning its post, and Hermione ran forward to the trapdoor, flinging it open - Harry leapt right through, head first - and Ron was behind him, but wavered at the edge…

Hermione shoved him through, then sat down with her legs over the edge. She grabbed the door, slanted it down, and slid into the hole, letting it close after her.

_Great plan_, Zoe said sarcastically as they plummeted towards who-knows-where. _This wasn't how I imagined dying for the second time._

'You're not dead,' Hermione thought flippantly. 'And we're not going to die.' She sent out cushioning charms towards where she hoped Harry and Ron were - and added another one for herself.

Zoe was thinking of protesting again when they struck something solid - and although they had fallen at least a hundred feet, Hermione didn't think she was hurt at all.

Slowly, she stood, and banished all of the cushioning charms.

"You guys okay?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Hermione said, and frowned as she felt something curling around her ankle. "There's something…"

"It's a plant of some kind," Harry said calmly. "Don't move. When you do - it gets tighter."

"I see," Hermione said easily. She whispered, and her wand glowed - illuminating the plant that they'd landed on.

_Devil's Snare. You've got to burn it._

Hermione relayed the information to the boys, and then sent a jet of purple flame towards the plant. It shrank away - and Hermione quickly stepped away from the vines - and finally, onto solid ground.

"Give a guy a hand, would you?" Ron asked weakly. Hermione smiled at him, and her flames scared away the vines wrapped around him. He scrambled after her, and sighed happily when he was out of the Snare's range.

"Where'd you learn that?" Harry asked, his gaze on Hermione speculative as he stepped out of the vine that she'd gotten to leave him alone.

"Did your parents teach you stuff before Hogwarts?" Ron wondered. "Ernie was telling me how his parents did that… "

"Nope, I just read ahead. My parents aren't even wizards," Hermione added, just for kicks. She loved seeing the expressions of astonishment on everyone's faces when she told them that - it just made them all even more convinced that she was a prodigy.

"Well, I guess reading comes in handy," Ron said slowly. "I suppose I should do some more of that."

"It's fun and handy," Hermione quipped. "So where are we?" She wondered aloud, raising her wand to illuminate the area.

"There's a passage," Harry pointed out.

"Then let's take it," Ron sighed. "All of this to avoid Filch…"

"At least we won't get expelled," Hermione said brightly.

"Uh - I'd take that over death any day," Ron chuckled.

"Who said we're going to die?" Hermione brushed off his idea like it was ridiculous.

_I did_, Zoe sighed. _This is ridiculous. You should really just head back._

Ron and Harry exchanged amused glances.

"We're at a school for learning magic," Hermione pointed out. "It's kind of a requirement for us to have magical adventures."

"True," Harry grinned. "I always dreamed of coming to a magical school… Especially after reading Wizard's Hall this last summer."

"I loved that book," Hermione commented. "So, onward?"

"Definitely."

"Sure," Ron was slowly being cheered up by the others' enthusiasm.

They headed slowly down the hallway, careful not to slip on the wet floor.

"I'm on my way… I don't know where I'm going," Hermione sang softly.

"What's that?" Ron asked, curious.

"I'm on my way, I'm taking my time," Harry sang back. "But I don't know where…"

Hermione beamed at him.

"You know Paul Simon?"

"Of course," Harry grinned. "Ron, have you ever heard any music by non-wizards?"

"No," Ron admitted.

"That's terrible." Hermione patted his arm. "We've got to show you some. I bet you'd love Nirvana."

"Okay," Ron smiled. "If I can handle hellhounds, I can definitely handle muggle music."

They reached the end of the corridor - in front of them was a large wooden double door.

"Let's do this," Ron said bravely, and he reached for one handle. Harry took the other - and they pulled the handles towards them.

Hermione stood back as they opened the door. She strode forward, wand at the ready, her two new friends right behind her.

Right now, Hermione felt ready for anything.


	9. Part 9

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own Harry Potter.

A/N: I wanted to change up this chapter. So, this will not end up just like the obstacles at the end of the first book. But then again, if you were looking for canon, you wouldn't be reading fanfic. Enjoy my crazy mind's workings... (My theory is that _surely_ Dumbledore would have hidden the Stone a little better. So he created a seemingly 'difficult' obstacles path which led to a fake stone. That stone is what Harry encountered and pocketed at the end of the first book.)

* * *

Part 9

Hermione surveyed the room from atop her broomstick.

"There's hundreds of them," Harry noted.

There certainly seemed to be that many flying keys, Hermione sighed.

_Totally obnoxious. Let's just blast the door open, shall we?_ Zoe thought.

"Seems like a waste of time," Ron sighed, unknowingly echoing Zoe's thoughts.

Hermione flew around the tall, circular room, scanning the keys - when something else caught her eye. A square pattern on the wall, when the rest of the room was formed with rectangular bricks.

She leaned forward and sped over to the spot.

"Harry, Ron," Hermione called. "Come look at this."

The boys came to see what it was.

"Is that…"

"A secret passageway?" Harry grinned.

Ron pushed at the corner of it, then found a groove along the side - slipped his fingers into it - and it creaked out a little.

"I do believe it is," Hermione said breathlessly.

Ron pulled a little harder - and the door swung out.

"There we go," he said, not a little proudly.

Hermione nudged her broom up, ducked her head, and flew into the dark passageway. She drew out her wand, cast a lighting spell, and continued on with her lit wand to guide her way.

"What spell was that?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"Lumos," Harry explained. "We're covering it next week - had to read up on it this week, remember?" Harry was the last one in - he reached behind him, after thinking for a minute, and closed the door.

Hermione flew smoothly along for quite a while, taking twists and turns with ease - until suddenly she could see light ahead. She slowed down, and flew out of the passage into a large, lit cavern.

"What _is_ this place?" Ron said wondrously.

"No idea, mate," Harry shook his head.

There were no doors, or windows(given that they were probably hundreds of feet below ground at this point). Strangely, there was no noticeable light source - despite the fact that the room was filled with a peaceful golden glow.

Harry was diving down to land when Hermione yelled -

"Stay in the air!"

He stopped immediately, about ten feet from the ground.

"Look down," Hermione told him.

Harry did so - and saw a bunch of squiggly markings on the ground.

"What is it?"

"They're runes," Hermione replied. She and Ron dived down to hover by Harry. "Ancient runes, used to power _very_ strong magic. With the proper application, runes can have an effect a hundred times stronger than some spells."

"Nifty," Ron whispered. "I think Percy's in a runes class here at Hogwarts."

"Its only offered to third years and up," Hermione replied. "But I've… done a bit of reading ahead, so I know a few things about runes."

"Really?" Harry said drily. Hermione just grinned at him.

Zoe was busy reading the runes. It had been one of her best classes...

Harry watched with shock as Hermione's eyes seemed to shift - her left eye looking far to the left, her right eye looking down.

"How d'ya do that with your eyes?" Ron gasped.

"Always been able to," Hermione shrugged. "Now, we don't want to land just _anywhere_ because some of the runes - well, quite a few of them, actually - are traps. See where I'm pointing? That's where we're supposed to start." When she landed without a problem, the boys followed suit.

"This is the rune for beginnings," Hermione pointed out, and Ron and Harry studied it for a moment. "Beside it… It says that to pass unharmed, you must - what is that, obey? - the instructions."

"And are there instructions?" Harry queried.

"Hmm, kind of." Hermione bit her lip. She stepped forward onto the _beginnings_ rune. As she did, a path of runes lit up with a light green glow.

"We follow this path," Hermione pointed out. "But each set of runes requires something different. Okay, so the first one… That's the rune for… well…" She flushed. "Um, I think it stands for nakedness. I - um - we might have to take off our clothes…"

Ron and Harry stared at her for a moment.

"See, all these obstacles, and nearly getting killed - it was all an elaborate ploy to get us naked," Ron said seriously. "I see it clearly now."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were still quite red. She lifted a foot and pulled off her boot, then her sock.

"What are you doing?" Harry squeaked.

"I'm hoping, for all of our sakes, that only a bit of, um, nakedness will suffice to step onto that rune."

Carefully, she touched her bare foot to it - and stepped down solidly onto the cold stone. It glowed a faint blue, but nothing bad happened.

"All right," Hermione said, relieved. "It accepts bare feet." After studying the next spot for a while, Hermione leaned forward and spat on the runes.

"Eww," Ron laughed.

"These runes require water," Hermione said primly. "Pay attention, because you'll probably have to repeat what I do in order to pass on your own."

They slowly made their way down the path, the boys carefully copying Hermione's actions. They had their shoes and their brooms tucked under their arms as they went.

* * *

Ron winced as he had to yank out a hair for the next stone.

"How many more things can they make us do?" He wondered out loud.

Hermione cast a stream of bubbles from her wand.

"All right, how important are bubbles that you've already read about them?" Ron demanded.

"And why would you bother to remember that spell, out of thousands you've probably read about?" Harry pointed out.

"I like bubble baths," Hermione winked at them. Ron flushed and closed his mouth. Hermione looked at the next stone - and sighed.

"This one needs blood."

Before either boy could object, she had conjured a blade - and was cutting into her palm. Squeezing it, Hermione let a single drop of blood touch the rune. It turned pink as it absorbed the blood.

Ron grimaced, but took the knife, and did the same thing. He winced as he cut himself, and his shoes slipped out from underneath his arm.

Hermione saw them fall as if in slow motion - they hit the stone behind Ron.

The bubbles rune exploded in a blaze of ice - shooting upwards and to the side, tiny shards flying everywhere and grazing Ron's feet.

Ron fell forward, into Hermione, who struggled to stay upright. The blood rune was barely big enough for both of them to stand there -

"Harry!" Hermione called, terrified.

The line of ice was thick, and had separated them completely. They couldn't even _see_ Harry.

"Oh shit," Ron cursed.

Hermione raised her wand and banished her own shoes, eager to not repeat the incident - then pointed it at the ice and whispered a melting charm.

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"Melting charm, but its not working, I don't know why…"

"Cause runes are like a hundred times stronger than regular spells?" Ron asked sarcastically.

Hermione nodded sheepishly.

"So we need a rune to break that ice," Ron rationalized.

"Yes," Hermione said excitedly. She began scanning the floor near her - no rune for melting. There was a poison antidote, and there was a growing charm…

Hermione swayed as she reached too far - and Ron grabbed her hand to keep her from falling. The combined blood on their hands made their hands slippery - but he managed to pull her back up anyhow.

"You're not going to do Harry any good by getting hurt yourself," Ron said angrily. "You're the only one who can read these damn runes."

Hermione bit her lip and kept looking.

Then suddenly, there was a cracking noise - and tiny bits of ice rained down on them.

Hermione and Ron blinked as they looked back and saw a large hole in the ice.

Harry was standing behind it, smirking.

"How'd you?" Ron said weakly.

"Fire rune," Harry grinned. "Looked like a flame. Kinda obvious. I could totally get into this rune business, you know."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him as Ron passed him the blade through the broken ice. She headed forward with a flowering charm, dropping pollen on the next stone.

"Besides that little mistake, this seems pretty easy," Harry said, once they were continuing through. "Do you think this could be an obstacle course meant for the exam at the end of first year, you know, our final?"

"But runes are only for third years," Ron pointed out. "But is this 3rd year runes, Hermione?"

"Mostly pre-OWL material, so third through fifth year," Hermione said absently. "All right, we're about to hit the wall now."

"I don't see a door," Harry commented.

Hermione studied the wall carefully. There were three runes inscribed there.

"This is… a cross between blood and fire, I think. Then blood and bubbles - what _is_ that - and blood and water. It all has to be simultaneous."

"I can do that water spell," Ron offered.

"I remember the fire one," Harry volunteered. "Incendio."

"If you want to combine them, you need to get your blood onto the tip of your wand before you cast the spell," Hermione explained. "Are you ready? One, two, three - "

They all cast their spells, aimed at their individual runes…

The wall shimmered and disappeared.

A great gust of wind pushed them forward, and they were falling into darkness.

Hermione gripped her wand in one hand. She felt hands catching at her robes - and was reassured that Ron and Harry were still there.

The fall seemed to last for a long time.

Hermione could see floating runes that they passed by.

Ron reached out and grabbed a rune. He wondered what it meant - it had a five pointed star on it. As he gripped it, his thumb sunk into the center of the star.

"Uhh," Ron gulped, trying to pull it out. It took a bit of effort - and by the time he'd gotten off his hand and into his pocket, they had fallen quite a ways. His other hand had managed to get a hold of Hermione's right elbow - he could see in his peripheral vision that Hermione and Harry were both holding their wands, but still managing to hold hands.

Ron could see Hermione's lips moving, trying to cast a spell of some sort. Then she fell right into a rune - it hit her forehead, and her eyes closed...

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, and tried to shake her awake, to no avail.

Ron and Harry looked at each other.

_We're screwed_, the look seemed to say. Hermione knew all the fancy spells - but they barely knew the few spells they'd learned in the last month.

Ron looked down again, and realized that he could finally see something below them - something dark and glimmering. What a strange way to die, Ron thought, quite matter-of-fact, and closed his eyes.

Before they hit the water, Harry had tucked his legs up to his chest, and pulled Hermione in close - she was unconscious already, she could drown if he didn't hang onto her.

The impact of the water stung, and for a few moments, Harry's body didn't want to move. But his mind knew he _had_ to - so he pulled up, kicking with leaden legs, trying to reach the top.

After such a fall, they had plunged deep down without meaning to. Harry swam with his eyes open, his wand in his teeth. With one arm he pulled Hermione up with him… He could see Ron struggling to swim upwards, and wished his friend luck, but there wasn't much he could do to help him at the moment.

Harry kicked out as hard as he could, but with every kick he was losing energy, and losing the battle against his need for oxygen.

He couldn't die _now_. Not when life had been so _good_ in the last month... so _exciting_.

He made one last brave surge - but still no air.

Under his arm, Hermione went rigid - and then began to swim upwards.

She glanced over at him.

Harry's last sight was Hermione's eyes, bright and stunningly purple - and he passed out.

* * *

Ron clung to his knees and rocked back and forth on the rock, trying to keep from crying. He'd been out of the water for a minute already - and there was no sign of Harry or Hermione. There was no way they could survive any longer without air…

Hermione burst out of the water a foot in front of Ron.

He shrieked, but reached forward to grab Harry as Hermione pushed him towards Ron.

Ron dragged the unconscious Harry onto the ground and starting whacking his chest - he knew he had to get water out of his friend's lungs.

Hermione shook her hair out of her face and reached for the edge. She pulled herself up easily, and stood next to Ron.

Harry spat out water as Ron continued to hammer at his chest.

"Ahh," Harry wheezed.

"Oh!" Ron grabbed his friend's hand. "You okay now?"

"Yeah, jus' fine - is Hermione…"

The boys looked up at Hermione.

She stripped off her robe and threw it on the ground, then shook her head, whipping her hair back and forth. When she finished shaking her hair, she stroked it back with one hand and rolled part of her blouse up in her fingers, wringing it out. Soaking wet, she looked wild and beautiful. When she looked at them, both wondered if her eyes had always been so purple.

"You two okay?" Hermione asked nonchalantly.

"Er," Ron said eloquently. "Yes?"

"Um," Harry contributed wisely. "Yeah."

"We better find a way out of here," Hermione said after a moment.

"Where is here?" Harry wondered.

"Don't know, but we're certainly not in Kansas anymore," Hermione sighed.

They were in a large cavern. The walls were covered with icy crystals - beautiful and light blue in hue.

"I'm freezing," Ron declared.

Hermione easily spelled them all with warming and drying spells.

"I have an inkling…" Harry said, pointing a bit further down the rocks. "That we're meant to take that."

_That_ was a wooden canoe, with two paddles.

Hermione walked over to the boat.

"Appears to be whole and not leaking anywhere," she mused. "But I don't know if we can trust something so… obvious. There have got to be traps on it."

"Well, what other options do we have?" Harry pointed out.

"Those?" Ron offered. He was pointing at the broomsticks floating in the water. It appeared that the brooms had fallen with their riders, and were thankfully floating in the water.

Hermione summoned the brooms, and passed one to each of the boys.

"Pick a direction, either direction," Hermione declared.

"Left," Ron said promptly. "Always choose left."

"Left it is."

Harry shook the water out of his broom and took off at a calm pace.

Zoe shook her hair again as they flew on.

It felt _amazing _to have a body again. To _fly_ again…

She didn't know how long Hermione would be… asleep. But Zoe was planning on taking advantage of her control for as long as she could.

* * *

The ceiling sloped down and disappeared underwater about a hundred yards in.

"Guess its the other way." Ron was disappointed.

"Not necessarily," Zoe said thoughtfully. "If we use bubblehead charms, I bet we can go underwater and check it out. Whatever these obstacles are leading us towards… We've had to beat the last few with intelligence. So why not have us search for something hidden? And underwater, at an apparent dead end - that would be a perfect place."

"This water is obviously flowing from somewhere," Harry thought out loud. "Let's give it a try. Ron - will these brooms work underwater?"

Ron's eyebrows shot up.

"They've got waterproof charms, obviously…"

"But do they fly underwater?"

Ron gaped at Harry for a minute.

"I don't think… its ever been tried. Or at least, never written about in a quidditch text. Believe me, I've read them all."

"Well, you up for trying something new?" Zoe grinned.

"Might as well," Ron shook his head. "Just to see if this day can get any crazier."

Armed with bubblehead charms so they could breathe, they dove their brooms into the water and plunged downward.

Zoe urged her broom to move with her mind - and amazingly, it worked just as well underwater as it did in the air. Well, maybe it took a little more effort to achieve the same speeds, but oh well! It was pretty damn amazing.

The rock face began to curve, and they followed it along. The water pushed up at them, but Zoe cast shield charms to keep the pressure from injuring their bodies.

They were diving down a hundred feet, two hundred feet…

When Harry suddenly stopped.

Zoe went to join him, and realized he had found a small hole in the rock. It was maybe two feet in diameter, just enough to squeeze through.

_I'm going to check it out_, Harry mouthed.

Zoe nodded. Ron gave him a thumbs up.

She had gotten fortunate, Zoe thought fondly, to find two souls who had a sense of adventure to match her own.

Harry carefully angled his broom vertically, clung to it tightly, and shot up through the hole. Zoe stuck her head in and watched as he went further and further away…

After a minute, a light seemed to go on further up the hole.

Zoe tipped her broom back and headed up.

The light was getting brighter as she reached… whatever it was.

When she broke through the water, she canceled the bubblehead charm and took a deep breath. The vertical tunnel continued for fifty yards, and then she had to halt very suddenly so as not to hit a ceiling.

Zoe breathed deeply and looked around.

Apart from the hole in the corner of the room - it was an incredibly lavish chamber.

Ornate paintings on every wall, fancy rugs, a gorgeous divan, and

"So you _did_ bring a friend!" A loud female voice exclaimed. "Oh, how lovely."

Zoe walked across the floor to where Harry was standing - in front of a painting of Cleopatra.

"Oh, you're even more gorgeous," Cleopatra purred.

"I'm twelve," Zoe deadpanned. "Nice digs, though."

Cleopatra giggled. Harry smiled at Zoe.

"Ron coming?"

"I assume so - " Zoe glanced back over her shoulder, just in time to cast a cushioning charm before Ron crashed into the ceiling.

"Thanks for that," Ron said shakily as he headed over to join them.

"Goodness, a ginger!" Cleopatra trilled. "Why, I haven't seen a ginger in _centuries_."

"Frightfully rude, that one," Ron tilted his head at Cleopatra, then turned to Harry. "So what's up with all the shiny things?"

"Cleo has told me this was a room of Rowena's treasures," Harry said, crossing his arms.

"_That's_ whats hidden at the end of the obstacles! The treasures of Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the Founders!" Ron gasped. "Of course, Dumbledore wanted it kept secret… But hold on… Wouldn't this have been here for centuries?"

"Spot on," Zoe chuckled.

"So why would he make the corridor illegal _this_ year?" Ron wondered.

"What _are_ you talking about?" Cleopatra wondered. "Anyways, I'm delighted you're here, Rowena's heirs haven't been by to visit since 1835. _That's_ what is rude."

"Hold up - are you saying _nobody_'s been here since 1835?" Harry asked.

"Sadly, yes. I've grown quite lonely, you know. Just landscapes and feasts on these walls..."

"So whatever those obstacles were leading to…" Harry thought out loud.

"Wasn't here," Zoe finished.

"But this is pretty cool as well," Ron said, wandering over to a golden teapot. "Hey, you think if I rub it three times, a genie'll come out?"

"As the actress said to the bishop," Cleopatra tittered.

The three kids looked at her in total confusion.

"Okay…" Zoe pointed at an ornate oak door. "What's beyond there?"

"The next room!" Cleopatra said excitedly. "_Do_ open it. There are riches beyond measure… Rowena's greatest treasures."

"Like what?" Ron was quite interested.

"You must see for yourself," Cleopatra sighed. "And if you keep the door open for a while… I can visit my friends inside," she said eagerly.

Zoe, Harry, and Hermione walked slowly to the door.

"You don't think this could be a trick, do you?" Harry whispered to the girl.

"Probably not," Zoe brushed him off. "Rowena Ravenclaw's treasures… just imagine."

Ron was imagining piles of gold and jewelry, an ancient set of powerful weaponry…

Zoe was imagining a vast library, filled with long-lost knowledge that she would be the first living (sort of) person to learn in centuries…

Harry bit his lip and glanced back at Cleopatra.

Ron and Zoe jumped forward and each grabbed a handle, and pulled the door open -

A wave of brilliant light washed out to envelop them. As the light sank back towards the door, Harry couldn't see Ron or Hermione any more.

"What was that?" Harry yelled.

"It welcomed them inside," Cleopatra said lightly. "Join them, and you can see. Everything you ever wanted…"

Harry faced her with his most steely gaze.

"What happened to them?"

"They simply went into the chamber. Your friends are fine."

Harry suddenly realized just how sickly sweet the painting's voice was.

"All right. You can tell me, or I can start destroying paintings."

Cleopatra gasped.

"You _wouldn't_."

Harry pointed his wand at the painting of a valley filled with poppies.

"Reducto."

The spell tore a large hole through the delicate canvas.

Cleopatra screamed.

"No - I'm just a painting - you know I can't hurt you, I didn't hurt them."

"Whatever you are," Harry said calmly. "You know what happened to them. You urged them on, so you're partly responsible."

When she still said nothing, Harry pointed his wand at the painting of a great banquet.

"No, not my banquet!" Cleopatra gasped.

"Reducto."

She wailed with grief as Harry destroyed the painting.

"I can do this to every painting in this room - including yours," Harry said grimly. "Unless you tell me what happened to them, and how I can bring them back."

"I'm not supposed to…" Cleopatra whined.

Harry pointed his wand at the snow capped mountains.

"No - stop - I'll tell you - I'll tell you everything - just leave me my mountains," Cleopatra begged.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Without the proper spell, the trap on the door takes you and puts you in a _moment_ charm."

"What's a moment charm?"

Cleopatra harrumphed.

"What _are_ they teaching at this school these days?"

"Answer the question," Harry growled.

"Keeps them trapped in the same place, unmoving, until the original spell caster comes back. Doesn't harm them! Just… freezes them."

"So it puts them in stasis."

Cleopatra looked at him blankly.

"Go on, how do I keep from getting caught by it?" Harry urged.

"Cast a mirror spell," Cleopatra sighed.

"Which does?"

"Creates a temporary shield in front of the caster, which reflects any charms, hexes, or curses back onto the caster - or onto the trap, in this case. Once you open the door, that spell will effectively disable the moment trap."

"Then how do I get them out?"

"I don't know that!"

Harry pointed his wand threateningly at the mountains.

"I don't!" Cleopatra sobbed. "I really don't!"

"Fine then," Harry said slowly. "Teach me the mirror spell. If you help me, I can bring you - and the mountains - with me when I go. I'll bring you somewhere nicer, somewhere where you can interact with other paintings."

Cleopatra looked skeptical.

"If you say so. I may as well take the chance."

Once Harry felt like he'd perfected the charm… He cast a hex on himself, just to test the mirror spell, and it didn't harm him. He headed over to the door.

"If you lied to me, and I get out," Harry threatened. "I'll come back and destroy all the other paintings. Leave you completely alone. This is your last chance to give me any more information."

"I told you everything I know," Cleopatra said haughtily. "Now go away rude boy, and fail the last test! You certainly don't deserve eternal life."

"Oh, go stick your head in a snake basket," Harry shot back at her. As he opened the door, he registered her last comment. _Wait - what did she mean, eternal life?_

The light almost blinded him when he opened the door - but true to Cleo's word, it reflected away from his mirror spell, and disappeared as he staggered forwards.

Harry was left in a dark room. The door clunked shut behind him. It felt rather ominous.

"Lumos," Harry said, and his wand lit up like a torch. There on the floor were Hermione and Ron, lying on their backs, their eyes open but unseeing.

He threw himself to his knees between them and felt their pulses - terrifyingly, he couldn't feel them.

"Because they're in stasis, not because they're dead," Harry told himself firmly. "Now… I just need to think of a spell…"

But nothing was coming to him. His spell repertoire was stunningly lacking.

"This is why I need to study. And read ahead. And not be in my _first month as a wizard_," Harry groaned. "Oh, this is so _stupid_. What do I do?"

Hermione and Ron said nothing.

"Anything, anything," Harry murmured frantically. He searched Hermione's pockets - after all, she'd had a cookie that got them past the three headed dog - but found nothing that seemed useful. Then for the hell of it, he searched Ron's pockets.

There was a spool of thread (Harry didn't think Ron sewed), a box of Bertie's Beans, and a…

"A rune," Harry breathed. Of course, he didn't know runes, but this… Frankly, it looked cool. It was a simple five pointed star, and was glowing a faint purple.

"Hermione said… to activate a rune, simply to tap it with a wand." Harry looked down at them. "I really, really don't want to kill you guys on accident."

The solution, he figured, was to do it to himself as well. That way, whatever happened would happen to all of them.

So he reached down, pulled Ron and Hermione's hands together, placed the rune so it rested on both of their hands, then touched the rune himself.

"Nothing else to do, might as well," Harry groaned.

He tapped the rune and stared. A great wave of magic rose up along his arm and filled his whole body. It branched off of the rune to do the same to Hermione and Ron…

Harry's head was pounding suddenly, his heart racing. He knew he must be shaking - and Hermione and Ron were doing so as well.

"Sorry, guys," Harry whispered, and then he was toppling over, fainting on top of them. It was quite un-gentlemanly of him.


	10. Part 10

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter…

A/N: Thanks to everyone for the lovely reviews! Now, I did post a different version of this chapter for all of half an hour before I decided that I needed to change it seriously - so I did. Here is the final draft of this chapter, I promise I won't change it again. ^_^

* * *

Part 10

Hermione woke up and her head hurt.

"Hey," Harry said hoarsely. He was holding one of her hands quite tightly.

"What happened?" Hermione asked. A wave of guilt from Zoe washed over her. Memories from the last hour slowly filled Hermione's mind.

"Stupid Egyptian queen promised us great treasures and we were too greedy," Ron said wryly. He was rubbing the sides of his head with the heels of his hands, wincing as he did so.

"That seems to sum it up," Harry frowned.

"Anything happen after that?"

"Well, I got in here, but you two wouldn't wake up, and since I really don't know any useful spells… So I used a rune from Ron's pockets… I guess it worked?"

Hermione reached over and picked up the rune, turning it to see the inscription. It was a five pointed star, and two of the points were silver, three a dull gold.

"It's a rejuvenation spell," Hermione said, quite surprised. "Ron, how'd you know…"

"I caught it when we were falling," Ron shrugged, and took the rune from Hermione's outstretched hand. "Seemed like a good idea at the time?"

"Good call," Hermione said warmly. "Without this, we might not be…" She trailed off, and Harry shivered. "Anyhow, crisis averted. Besides my headache - ow."

"Can we get out of here now?" Ron groaned. "My head hurts too. And I'm starting to doubt this whole treasure business."

"Hermione," Harry said suddenly. "Your eyes… I thought… They seemed purple for a while, but now they're dark brown again."

Hermione blinked.

"Oh… um."

The boys were waiting for an answer.

"Maybe its my magic acting up again?" Hermione suggested. "I'm not really sure."

Ron nodded, accepting her explanation easily, but Harry looked rather doubtful.

"Should we… get out of here?" Hermione suggested, and she felt so _sad _that she couldn't tell them.

They wouldn't understand.

Nobody would.

It was a deep secret that nobody but her and Zoe would ever know, _should_ ever know.

Harry eyed Hermione speculatively for a moment - and maybe he saw just a flash of grief, or desperation, or something he didn't recognize - and he squeezed her hand.

"I'm glad you guys are all right," Harry told them. "Come on. I promised Cleopatra I'd get her out of here, since she told me how to get in without being knocked out."

"But she tricked us," Ron scowled.

"Yes," Harry said simply. "And I made a promise."

Ron nodded reluctantly, and Hermione just looked at Harry and smiled.

Zoe tried not to think about how he had inherited Lily's sense of honor.

* * *

After collecting Cleopatra, and several of the other paintings, Hermione shrunk them and tossed them in a water proof bag she conjured. Harry and Ron looked at each other, wondering for about the thousandth time that night how Hermione knew so much magic.

When they reached the rune passage, they flew upwards - and smacked into something dark, unknown, and quite tough.

They plummeted back into the water, sputtering and confused - and with broken brooms.

"What the hell was that?" Ron demanded.

"I don't know, but I don't think we can get back up," Hermione said nervously.

"Nimbus' don't break this easily," Ron growled. "Crappy cleansweeps…"

"Guys, we're being pulled downstream," Harry said as he tried to swim against it.

"It might be the only way out," Hermione said thoughtfully, and reached to grab Harry's hand before he floated far away. Next she grabbed Ron's hand.

They all began to float downstream together, a sense of foreboding filling them, even as each one tried to be brave for the others.

"In case, um, anything else happens," Ron said quietly. "It's been… really great being your friend, Harry. And you too, Hermione, even if it wasn't for long."

His smile was so genuine that Hermione just wanted to cry.

"You too, Ron. I've never had a friend… like you before," Harry said seriously. "It's been the most exciting night of my life, probably. Not because of what we did - but, well... because we did it together - all three of us."

"Ditto," Ron agreed.

Hermione smiled tearily.

"It was amazing," she agreed. If they had been on land, she would have yanked them into a hug - but now, floating along, she contented herself with squeezing their hands firmly.

Slowly they realized that the passageway was turning into something a bit more familiar…

"Its starting to look like a pipe!" Ron figured out.

"We must be in the school's water system," Hermione rationalized. She pulled them both closer as they reached a fork in the pipe - so they all would end up going in the same direction.

The speed of the water seemed to be increasing, and they found themselves swept very quickly through a series of pipes… Zoe counted them - first they took the left fork, and at the next one, the right one - left, right, middle, left, left, middle, left, right -

'I'm lost,' Hermione admitted. 'I'm not going to remember

_I will_, Zoe swore to herself. _As soon as we get back, I'm drawing a map._

The force of the water carried them upwards, and further into the castle, Hermione suspected. By this time she had an arm wrapped around each of the boys' shoulders, and both Ron and Harry had a firm grip around her waist.

"Next time let's bring a boat," Ron suggested. "These are seriously big pipes, we could travel around…"

"Look, is that - " Harry pointed at a smaller tunnel, and tried to paddle towards it… But all together, they could make it there.

"I could see light at the end of it," Hermione agreed. "Like an exit…"

"Probably to a bathroom," Harry nodded.

"All right, we should try and get to the next one then," Ron pointed out. "Your warming charm's good, but my toes are starting to get numb."

"Ron - grab Harry's other hand, will you?" Hermione said. They maneuvered slowly, but managed to keep ahold of each other while Hermione got out her wand.

Harry's eyes widened as a thin ropelike substance shot out of her wand and attached to the wall. They continued along for a minute - before Hermione hissed, and they stopped moving, despite the current.

"I'm going to extend this slowly, so we don't get swept along any more," Hermione told them. "Just hang on - and when we get to the next exit, get towards it."

It wasn't long before they got there, and Ron managed to pull them into the exit. Hermione released the spell, and tucked her wand arm into her chest.

Harry suddenly found he was able to stand - the water in the side tunnel was only a few feet deep, and flowed more slowly.

"Your arm okay?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded bravely, but winced as she stretched her arm.

Ron led them down the pipel, which was slowly narrowing.

"Can we get out?" Harry asked.

"Found a grate," Ron pointed it out. He used his hands to try and move it - when that didn't work, Hermione blasted it with a _reducto_.

It banged outwards and disappeared. They could hear someone screeching from outside the pipe.

"Oops," Hermione said innocently. She stuck her head out, said something that sounded like _Oh good_, and hopped through. There was a splash, and Ron looked back at Harry, shrugging before following Hermione. Harry waited a good ten seconds for Ron to get out of the way, and jumped through the hole.

He found himself in warm water - a nice change from the cold water in the pipes. As he surfaced, he had to wipe bubbles out of his eyes.

"This is a seriously nice bathtub," Ron was whistling.

"I love bubbles," Hermione giggled.

"Hi," Harry said, blinking over at the two girls who were already in the tub.

Hermione recognized them - they were the two sixth year female prefects, from Hufflepuff and Slytherin respectively.

"Laura and Henrietta, right?" Hermione said cheerfully. "Is this the Prefect's bath?"

Laura nodded mutely from where she was sitting in Henrietta's lap. Henrietta just stared at them. Her hands were cupped around Laura's… well, it was very kind of her to go so far to preserve another prefect's modesty, Harry thought.

"Sorry to intrude," Hermione said sweetly. "We'll be going now."

"Have a nice bath," Ron said kindly, as he climbed out of the tub after Hermione. Harry followed quickly.

"Don't mind us, carry on," Hermione called over her shoulder before leaving - and giving the door a little locking spell.

"What time is it anyhow?" Ron wondered. "We left at around midnight…"

"That clock says its six ," Harry laughed.

"Just a _little_ past curfew," Hermione giggled.

"Lucky its Saturday," Ron whistled. "We can sleep as late as we like."

* * *

Hermione crept as quietly as she could into her bed. The first thing she did was take the paintings out of her bag and restore Cleopatra's portrait to its regular size.

"It was _horrid_ being tiny," Cleopatra shivered.

"Well, now you're full sized, where do you want to be hung?" Hermione asked diplomatically.

"I…" Cleopatra looked down and sniffed.

"What's wrong?"

"I want to explore again - see Elizabeth and all of my friends, but…"

"But?"

"If Dumbledore finds me, I'm sure he'll put me right back again, down in the pipes, and I don't _want _to go back there!"

"Does he know that?"

"Of course he does! He _wanted_ to put me down there, he wanted me out of the way," Cleopatra sniffed. "Because I knew what he did…"

"What did he do?" Hermione leaned forward, even more curious.

"He wasn't supposed to keep it in the school, too dangerous," Cleopatra shook her long black hair and began to comb through it with her fingers - yet managed to still look dignified while she did so.

"Keep what?" Hermione and Zoe were both dying of curiosity.

Cleopatra looked around nervously.

"I've warded my bed, very well," Hermione told her. "He won't know if you tell me."

"Oh yes he will, he can read your mind," Cleo said, frightened.

"I don't think he can," Hermione said firmly. "Severus didn't succeed, and I don't Dumbledore will do any better."

"Severus?" Cleo wondered.

"Believe me," Hermione said seriously, avoiding the question. "I won't tell anyone if you don't want me too. Sometimes… it's just nice to be able to tell somebody… something that you've had to keep inside for a long time."

Cleopatra looked at her closely.

"I do want to tell you," the Egyptian Queen said softly. "I was having a cup of tea with my friend Alan in the Headmaster's office when I heard Dumbledore talking with his friend, Nicholas Flamel. Apparently there had been many attacks on Flamel's home, by thieves that were trying to steal… the Philosopher's Stone."

Hermione sat straight up. Zoe had heard of the Philosopher's Stone before...

"And?" She whispered.

"Dumbledore agreed to hide the Philosopher's Stone for Flamel. He promised to keep it safe - and I _saw_ the stone, and I had to see it more closely, so I snuck into Dippet's painting, and it was _beautiful_. Some of the Headmaster's portraits were arguing - they said it was too dangerous to keep in the school, and that they'd tell the Ministry - but Dumbledore put a locking spell on them, so they couldn't move out of his office. I tried to get away, to get to my portrait in the Egyptian Ministry, but he got the spell on me too… When he saw I was there, he knew that I didn't belong there, and somebody might wonder - so he used me as a bloody _obstacle_!"

"You mean the treasure that you talked about… is the Philosopher's Stone?"

"Yes," Cleopatra said proudly. "He told the professors that the Ministry had agreed to keeping the Stone here - but I _know_ its absolutely illegal. But I'm bound to just these paintings that he left with me - and I do love my mountains, but _really_ - I just want to get out again."

There was a sudden rapping sound, and both Hermione and Cleo jumped.

"What's that?" Cleo hissed.

"It's okay," Hermione said automatically. She reached over and pulled back the curtain slightly.

"Good morning, Susan," she said pleasantly.

Susan eyed her friend for a moment.

"Have you slept at _all_?"

"Nope," Hermione said cheerily. "But for once, I wasn't trying to fall asleep! Come on in."

Susan slipped into Hermione's bed - and saw, propped against the pillows…

"Um, hi?"

"Hello," Cleopatra batted her eyes at Susan.

Susan looked to Hermione for an explanation.

"Cleo was trapped somewhere, so we saved her," Hermione explained briefly. "She has to stay here for a while, for her own safety."

"You're running witness protection for paintings now?" Susan quipped.

"Something like that," Hermione agreed. She pulled back the covers and let Susan crawl under with her.

"Were you and Neville gallivanting off at night? 'Cause you know I can't let you do that, Nev needs his beauty sleep."

"Actually, I was with Ron Weasley and Harry Potter."

"Really? Where'd you go?"

"Promise not to tell?"

"Of course." Susan linked pinkie fingers with the brunette.

Hermione launched into the epic tale of the obstacle course. Susan was an amazing audience, oohing and ahhing in all the right spots, and Hermione couldn't resist embellishing a little on the most dangerous parts.

"So the paintings were the treasure?" Susan asked when Hermione finished.

Hermione glanced at Cleo, who looked frightened.

"Yes," Hermione said easily.

"The finest treasure _ever_," Cleopatra said haughtily as she preened.

"Are you tired?"

"Oh, yeah," Hermione sighed. "But its eight am - should I really be sleeping now?"

"You should always be sleeping," Susan said sternly. "Now, I'm going to make us some hot cocoa, and once you've drunk it, you're lying down and not leaving until you get some sleep."

"Yes ma'am," Hermione said obediently.

When Hermione had finished her hot cocoa, Susan began to tell her wizarding fairy tales. When that didn't work, Susan began to sing.

"This is a lullaby my aunt always sings to me," Susan said softly.

Hermione closed her eyes and tried to relax. Zoe didn't want to, especially given there was someone _right there_, so close it still made her nervous.

But Hermione ignored Zoe, tried to stop thinking, and just concentrated on Susan stroking her hair. The blonde had a lovely voice, low and soothing, and before she knew it, Hermione was falling asleep.

Susan beamed, feeling quite proud as she tucked Hermione in. She had been trying different remedies for Hermione's insomnia, mostly teas and herbs, but this was the first time she'd actually managed to help her.

As she pulled the covers back over Hermione, she noticed a small stone.

Susan picked it up and looked at it. The star glowed faintly, and one of the silver points slowly morphed into gold. Susan looked up at Cleopatra for an explanation, but the portrait had none. Shrugging, Susan tucked the runic stone under Hermione's pillow.

"Good night, Susan," Cleo said quietly as Susan left Hermione's bed and got ready to close the curtains.

The blonde looked back and smiled at the portrait.

"I think you mean good morning."


	11. Part 11

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or Hermione Granger, or Neville Longbottom… etc.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for your support. It's been a while since I've updated, thanks for your patience. Any comments or questions, feel free to pm me.

* * *

Part Eleven 

"Neville, tell me you're not upset," Hermione said plaintively. It was the afternoon, and she was outside with her friend by the Great Lake.

"I can't do that," Neville sighed. "I mean - I wish I was there too."

"So let's go exploring, the two of us," Hermione urged him. "I bet there's hundreds of secret places left to find."

"Maybe another time," Neville said quietly.

"Well… remember when we talked about creating pranks? Aren't we going to do that together?" Hermione coaxed.

"What kind of prank?" Neville looked up slowly.

"Something elaborate," Hermione's eyes danced merrily. "Something that's never been seen before. What do you think?"

Neville slowly began to smile.

"I think I might like this idea."

* * *

Hermione had an amazing weekend, but she knew in the back of her mind that Zoe was sulking. Finally, on Sunday night, Hermione hurried into her bed, closing the canopy behind herself before flinging herself facedown, and having a quick mind chat with Zoe.

'What's going on with you?' Hermione demanded.

_Nothing_.

But Hermione eventually got it out of her. Neither of them could ever keep a secret for long from the other…

_It was so amazing, getting to have control of this body, even if it was just for an hour, _Zoe said wistfully. _I miss it already. I'm just a watcher, doomed to never have a body - to never have any kind of control in life…_

'Well, it is my body,' Hermione said angrily. 'You had a life, and I'm sorry, but this is my life to live.'

_I know that_, Zoe sounded miserable. _ But I'm just… not happy. And when I'm not happy, I know you have a hard time staying happy too. And sleeping, for that matter. _

'That's literally emotional blackmail,' Hermione growled, but she knew Zoe was right. They were linked irrevocably, and if Hermione wanted to ever get some sleep - or simply deal with Zoe's paranoia - she would have to make some concessions.

_I know_, Zoe was unrepentant.

'So what do you want?'

_I want some time in control. Definitely flying._

'All right,' Hermione agreed. 'You can have an hour three days a week to do some flying.'

_Three hours a week_? Zoe pleaded. _That leaves you a hundred and sixty five hours. Think of the comparison._

'Think of the fact that I get to make the decisions,' Hermione reminded her sharply. 'I'll let you take over during homework time twice a week - that's two hours for each night. If you finish sooner, you can do what you like - within reason! - for the rest of that time.'

_Great!_

If Zoe were a puppy, Hermione figured she'd be wagging her tail right now.

'But anytime I'm with my friends, I want to be in control,' Hermione said authoritatively.

_That's fine_, Zoe said hurriedly. _Can I go flying now_?

'Sure,' Hermione sighed. 'I have finished my work already.'

She closed her eyes, relaxing, and letting Zoe take over.

"Where are you going?" Susan asked from where she was reading in her bed. Hermione had practically jumped out of her bed and begun to stretch her arms.

"Flying," Zoe said quickly.

"Oh! You have a broomstick?"

"I reckon I can get into the broom shed pretty easy," Zoe shrugged.

Susan's eyes widened.

"Really? I don't know if I should do that."

"There's could and would - should is a useless word," Zoe laughed.

Susan watched as Zoe headed out... And stopped in her tracks, halfway to the door.

"If you want to come," she said diplomatically. "You can take a turn on the one I grab. Or just ride with me."

_But Susan's _my_ friend!_ Hermione protested inwardly.

'I should get to scope our your friends too," Zoe thought smugly. 'Make sure they're good enough for you.'

_They are_, Hermione said, quite firmly.

'I know,' Zoe thought happily. 'With any luck, we'll be able to keep them.'

* * *

"Look at the crazy little mudblood. I hear she can't even use magic properly."

Hermione looked up from her book to see a miniature of Lucius Malfoy, followed by two chunky boys. They were all first years, if she remembered right.

"Why don't you get lost," Neville said angrily.

"Before we make you, Malfoy," Susan added.

Hermione stood slowly, looking straight into the boy's eyes. They were ice blue and sneering, but gave no hint of the coldness that his father's had always made her feel.

"Are you really looking to test that theory?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh please," mini Malfoy smirked and pulled out his wand. "I'm not scared of a filthy mudblood."

_You think if we cut her open, she'll bleed mud? _

_ She could still see Abby's body laying there. She couldn't look away._

_ Filthy, filthy mudblood._

Hermione's eyes rolled back.

Zoe growled and gripped her wand tighter.

"Say that. One more time."

Malfoy stepped closer, and she could feel his spit.

"You're a filthy mudbloo - "

He shot back twenty feet as Zoe's wand went off with a bang. The two other boys scrambled for their wands, but Zoe just waved her own, and their wands flew towards her, hitting each other with such force that they both snapped. Malfoy's cronies moaned in fright and ran.

She walked slowly towards Malfoy, who was trying to get up and find his wand.

"You know nothing, you stupid little boy."

Another swish, and with a dash of purple sparks, his robe was ripped from him, leaving him in trousers and a shirt.

"Ahh!" Malfoy cried, as his left arm was yanked forward. He could feel the pain of an invisible knife digging into his skin. He could only watch as angry red lines appeared on his left forearm… In the shape of a snake, wrapping around a skull.

"Is that what you want?" Hermione's eyes rolled, and she stepped in closer. "A baby wannabe death eater? You can't think of anything better to do than insult people with names that shouldn't mean anything?"

"No, what, no," Malfoy whined, finally ripping away his gaze from his own arm and looking up at her.

"Because that's what it comes down to," she whispered, for his ears alone. "You want to be like your father? Then go ahead, continue down this path. _Or_ you can try to be yourself. I've got absolutely no use for clones. Prove to me you're not just a little snobby purist and we can get along. But you ever try to draw your wand on me, or use a _single word_ against me or anyone else I like, then you've got a real problem on your hands."

She left him there, shocked and trembling. When she was a hundred yards away, she flicked her wand and he gasped as the red lines disappeared, and with it the pain.

Draco Malfoy now understood perfectly that Hermione Granger was _not_ to be messed with.

* * *

"Hermione, what was that?" Neville asked quietly as they headed back to the castle.

"He needed a lesson," She shrugged, tossing her hair back over her shoulder. "I hope for his sake he's learned it."

Susan grabbed her hand and squeezed it, ignoring the initial nervous twitch of Hermione's hand at her touch.

"Are you okay?" the blonde asked softly.

"Fine," Hermione nodded. "Let's find a better place to study, shall we?"

Neville sighed softly, and pushed something into Hermione's hand.

"You dropped this."

She glanced at it - the star rune, now completely gold. Why had it changed? And why had she kept it, really? If it was simply a rejuvenation spell as she'd thought, then it was presumably out of uses. It merited some further study, Zoe agreed.

* * *

Really, Hermione wasn't _looking_ for trouble.

But there, in the corner, was little Megan Jones, cowered with three much older Slytherin boys leaning over her, one of them grabbing her wrist with his large hand.

"How about evening those odds a bit?" Hermione said loudly as she approached them.

Flint looked at her and laughed, not letting go of Megan.

"I guess its two for one, huh boys?"

"Looks more like three for one," Hermione smiled at them. Her wand was already out and ready. "Hey, Megan."

"Hermione," Megan breathed. "Y - you probably don't want to be here."

"Actually, I don't know where else I'd want to be. I'm just about to walk Megan to dinner."

"I don't think so," Higgs laughed. "The little mudblood is staying right here."

"That's the second time I've heard that word today," Hermione tilted her head. "And nope… Still not liking it. Funny, that. What did these ugly oafs want, Megan?"

"Hey!" Flint growled, reaching for his own wand. Higgs didn't bother, he just raised his fist and swung it towards Hermione...

Flick, flick, swish - the three boys were pinned to the wall, wands on the floor, arms above their heads.

"What did they want, Megan?"

"Everything," she whispered. "They wanted me to open my robe, and they hurt my wrist…"

Hermione hissed as she saw the bruise already forming on the girl's wrist.

"Bastards," she said succinctly. She held out a hand, and Megan took it gratefully. Hermione summoned their wands and easily broke them over her knee.

A few spells later, they were still hanging there, now in cut and tattered clothes, staring down at her in anger and shock.

"You ever so much as _look_ at her the wrong way, or any other little girls for that matter, I _will_ find you," Hermione said coolly. She walked Megan to dinner.

The little brunette clutched to her heroine, looking at her admiringly.

"Thank you so much, Hermione. How did you do that?"

Hermione gave her a disarming smile.

"I read a lot."

* * *

Neville watched his friend carefully throughout dinner. Megan was telling everyone how Hermione had stopped Flint and his cronies from hurting her. Hermione was smiling, but she was so worn out - Neville marveled that the others didn't seem to notice. Well, besides Susan, of course. The lines under Hermione's eyes seemed worse than usual, and when she spooned up her soup, her hand trembled ever so often.

He has read about magical exhaustion before, but this is the first time Neville thinks he has actually seen it. That magic he saw Hermione do on Malfoy - it was mostly _wordless_, and that was _really_ advanced. It must have taken a lot of energy out of her. Not that she ever had much energy anyways. She never slept well.

"Hey, mind if I squeeze in?"

He looked up to see a smiling Harry Potter.

"Course not." Neville scooted over, and Harry sat down on his right.

"You're Neville?" Harry asked, looking straight at him.

"Yeah…"

"Hermione told me all about you," Harry grinned, and shook his hand warmly under the table, pushing up his glasses with his other hand. "Great to meet you."

Neville can't help but smile.

"I heard about Saturday night," he says softly to Harry, who nods and glances across to Hermione. She's engrossed in listening to something Susan's whispering in her ear.

"Best adventure I've ever had," Harry admits.

Neville hands him the pumpkin juice, and Harry smiles - he didn't even have to ask.

"Life with Hermione is a constant adventure," Neville chuckles, shaking his head.

* * *

Pomona Sprout regarded the Hufflepuff Table with a kind and watchful eye. This year's batch of first years was simply the most _Hufflepuff_ she'd seen in all her years. They all stuck together so firmly, just a month in. True, only time would tell what might happen, but from everything she had seen, they were loyal to each other, and worked together superbly. Miss Bones had even brought together all of them to study together on Wednesdays and Sundays in the common room.

Her youngest badgers had seemed to already form into smaller, close-knit friendship groups - all duos and trios. Nobody was left alone. They were all sweet and interesting in their own way, but the most intriguing trio certainly was Miss Granger, Miss Bones, and Mr. Longbottom.

Pomona had heard tales from the other professors about Miss Granger's strange magical prowess that had funny visual side effects - purple sparks or light, as Minerva and Filius told it. But in Herbology, she worked quickly and comfortably, coordinating with Miss Bones and Mr. Longbottom so easily it seemed like magic.

There was a connection there that nothing could stop, Pomona thought fondly as she watched Miss Granger reach across the table and grab - was that Mr. Potter's hand?

Sure enough, Mr. Potter and the youngest Mr. Weasley were sitting with her youngest badgers this evening. Pomona watched carefully, and saw how easily they interacted with her own. They spoke mostly with Ms Granger and Mr Longbottom.

How on earth had they met? She had never seen them partner up in Herbology. Yet they seemed close already… Professor Sprout beamed at the show of inter-house unity.

She was so absorbed in watching her first years that the first scream came as a shock.

"Oh my God!" Mr. Avery stood up, scrambling away from the table. "That's _blood_!"

Two sixth year Slytherin girls shrieked too. Even from the distance, Professor Sprout could see the blood on their lips.

There was quite a bit of panic at the Slytherin table - it seemed that at least half the table had blood in their goblets - and on their plates. One girl grabbed her bowl and flung it away.

The bowl smashed on the wall - and as the blood ran down the wall, it slithered horizontally, forming words…

_**It is the same color as yours… Do you like having it on your hands?**_

Ilsa Avery shrieked over at the Ravenclaw table, fleeing from the Hall. Many heads turned to watch her go. Even as she ran, her robes seemed to melt away, leaving blood on her and on the floor.

Through the commotion, Professor Sprout was able to register that the students effected had all said something purist in her classes… And the worst of those effected were known bullies.

Somehow her head turned away from the screaming students and back to her table - the only table where nobody was effected. The youngest badgers stared in horror and mixed amusement at the sight. Longbottom's head turned to focus on something, and Pomona followed his example.

She glanced at Miss Granger just in time to see her flick her wand slightly.

The screaming died down instantaneously. The 'blood' was all gone, replaced with the normal drinks and food. Professor Sprout turned back to watch Miss Granger, who was tucking away her wand and smiling as she picked up her fork.

A chill ran down Pomona Sprout's spine.

What was she to do now?


End file.
